


Dangerous Games

by keycat



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anal, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Language, M/M, Mild D/s, Some Fluff, Some angst, mild dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9468488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keycat/pseuds/keycat
Summary: One of these days, MacCready's going to get his ass beat. Until then, he's perfectly content to incite the ire of Gray, a mercenary whose patience is about as thin as tissue paper.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly just a one shot between MacCready and my male sole. May add more later, may not.
> 
> **update: I guess I /will/ be adding more. What can I say, once just wasn't enough for me when it came to these two. Updates will be slow and I don't suspect there'll be a /whole/ lot more, but who knows, they're really growing on me, lol

Traveling with Gray was definitely a far cry from working with the Gunners.

But honestly? It  _ sucked. _

The guy had to be at least forty, and he had a face that would make any pre-war general crap his pants with jealousy. Even had a goddamn scar down one side, and the sharpest pale blue eyes MacCready had ever seen. But he’d made judgement calls on looks alone and been wrong in the past. So when Gray walked into the Third Rail, wearing a Brotherhood of Steel uniform in a way that said  _ very  _ clearly he was not in the Brotherhood of Steel, looking for a hired gun, asking about some kid, MacCready had felt sorry for the guy. He was alone, and scared, and just trying to make his way in the Commonwealth, and just needed a friend, right?

Three weeks later, MacCready was sure Gray needed  _ something _ , but a friend may not have been it.

MacCready sat slumped at the table he’d set up for himself at the truck stop, propped up on his elbows, his face in his hands, his eyes trying to focus on the Mr. Gutsy model he’d been building while Gray tinkered with the generators. Winter would be coming soon, and they would need heat, he had said simply, and left MacCready to his own devices.

Again.

Christ, traveling with Gray was a bore.

The guy was a cut-and-dry mercenary, no question about it, but he was so...well, the name Gray suited him. He took jobs, he finished the jobs with ruthless efficiency, he got paid, and that was it. He had no flair, not like the Gunners. Now  _ those  _ guys knew how to party. Or, at least, they did compared to Gray.

MacCready groaned and let his forehead drop to the table with a heavy  _ thump _ . Gray didn’t even look up from the generators, not that MacCready expected he would. That dude wouldn’t even be fazed by a super mutant bearing down on him with a mini-nuke in one hand and a pike that had “your ass here” written on it in the other.

“Listen, boss, I gotta confide in you something,” MacCready said, his face still flat against the table.

“I’m not paying you so I can be your confidante,” Gray said, leaning back to look at his work and wiping an oil streaked hand over his face, leaving a mess of black smudges.

“Be that as it may, I think this is something important I gotta get off my chest.”

“Fine. Shoot.”

MacCready sat up. “We’ve been traveling together for a while now, and, I’m just wondering…” his voice trailed off as he found himself suddenly distracted. Gray’s face was taut with concentration, his mouth twisted into a frown, his eyes hard...how hadn’t MacCready noticed before that he was...well, kinda hot? Okay, more than kinda.

“Wondering  _ what _ ? Spit it out,” Gray snapped, still paying MacCready only the bare minimum of attention.

Right, that was why. Dude was an absolute douche.

“Nah, I was wondering when you planned on telling me whose dick you had to suck to get that uniform,” MacCready said before he could stop himself. Damn, he was gonna have to work on that. He liked playing with fire just a little too much for his survival instinct’s liking.

Gray seemed unperturbed, but threw down his tools and stood up, somehow managing to not look at MacCready once as he strolled over to the table. He only looked him in the eye when he took the kid by the neck and forced his head back. “You like playing dangerous games, MacCready?”

“Sometimes,” MacCready managed to get out, feeling his chair tip back onto two legs. Oh, boy. This had the potential to go south pretty quickly, but for some reason he was mostly concerned with making sure not to upend the table and lose his model.

“You are a hired gun, and that’s it. I pay you to watch my back, and that’s it. Unless you want me to throw you back to the Gunners, I suggest you keep your cute comments to yourself from here on out.”

“You think I’m cute?” Geez, how was he not dead yet?

“Keep pushing your luck.” Gray gave MacCready’s neck a final squeeze, then let his chair drop back onto all fours. He turned without another word and went back to his generators.

_ Holy crap.  _ MacCready touched a hand to his neck. How the hell was he suddenly so turned on? He looked at Gray, back to work at the generators, and--oh, hell no. He flashed a look that was so shark-like, MacCready almost checked himself for fins. His pale eyes were alight with the kind of mischief you didn’t see in guys that age, his toothy, crooked smirk--ugh, why did it have to look so good on him?

“See something you like, dickhead?” MacCready said, and almost clapped a hand to his mouth. Oh, boy. He was in for it now.

Gray stood again, and walked back to MacCready, slowly this time, giving the younger man time to appreciate the way his uniform clung to his body and the strong, assured way he moved.

MacCready held his breath; by the time Gray reached his side, he felt like his lungs were going to burst. But it was nothing compared to the anticipation he felt building inside him, praying that he had read Gray correctly and he wasn’t just about to get an ass kicking.

“Get inside,” Gray ordered, and MacCready jumped up so fast his chair flung back. He wasn’t sure where Gray wanted him, so he just ducked under the overhead door and stood in the center of the room, rotating on his heel, his thumbs hitched in his pockets, trying to look as cool as he most assuredly did not feel.

“So, uh, where do you want me?” MacCready asked, right before he felt Gray cinch his enormous arms around his waist and jerk him close.

“On your knees,” he purred against MacCready’s ear. “I’m getting  _ real  _ tired of that smart mouth of yours.”

MacCready dropped so fast it probably should have broken his kneecaps. He was about to show Gray that he, in fact, wouldn’t  _ ever  _ tire of MacCready’s smart mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

MacCready couldn’t believe it. Here he’d believed that Gray couldn’t possibly be any more of an asshole, yet, somehow, he’d managed to prove MacCready wrong, piss him off to the point where he could barely shoot straight,  _ and  _ embarrass the hell out of him, all in one fell swoop.

_ How  _ do  _ you do it?  _ MacCready thought bitterly.  _ Everyone’s asking--what’s your secret? _ He signaled to Gray, perched on the opposite end of the catwalk, that he was reloading, who acknowledged with a curt nod and stood up. He put a foot up on the railing to brace himself and fired down on a raider who had his sights set on MacCready’s position.

He actually had to stop himself from groaning out loud in frustration as he yanked the magazine from his rifle and quickly swapped it out for another. Just the  _ look  _ on Gray’s face was enough to get him going. Angry, focused, and the way he handled his gun--he’d been doing this a hell of a lot longer than MacCready, who already considered himself to be pretty damn good at what he did, and it showed. He was probably good at a lot of things, not that MacCready would ever know. The bastard had thought it would be funny to leave MacCready on his knees for something like, what, an hour? While he ‘attended to something’. Turned out that something was cleaning his rifle, and when MacCready finally got curious enough to see what the hell was taking so long, he was told to suit up and get ready to go to the old Corvega plant, which he did without a word, fetching his rifle in a hurry to hide his embarrassed flush. Typical, really.

Gray signaled back to him, holding up two fingers, and MacCready nodded and poked up over his cover, searching for the two raiders Gray had spotted. Easy--he fired once, twice, dropping them both. He quickly looked at Gray, hoping that he'd seen. His back was pressed against his cover, his rifle across his lap, one knee drawn up, his weight resting on one elbow...and, yes, his pale eyes were boring into MacCready, watching him carefully.

MacCready smirked, shouldered his rifle, and shrugged, his palms up. “What can I say? You’re traveling with the best.”

Gray’s eyes narrowed, and MacCready’s face fell, irritated. What an ass. Couldn’t the guy just  _ appreciate  _ him for once? Maybe even just a, ‘hey, MacCready, that was a great shot, thanks for saving my stupid, ungrateful face’. He rolled his eyes and slouched against his cover, frowning and cleaning up his spent magazines, tucking them away in the many pockets of his ratty duster a little more forcefully than he intended. He heard the remaining sleeve tear a little, and he scowled. Great. Just great. Just what he needed. Now he was gonna have to patch his duster again, before he lost the damn thing. What a day it was shaping up to be.

“You ready to press forward?” he snapped, standing up without waiting for Gray. He could feel the old mercenary’s eyes on him again, and MacCready could tell without looking that he was not happy.

_ Is he ever? _

MacCready had to admit, considering the guy’s age and size, he could move. Quietly, too. He didn’t even hear Gray coming up behind him, until he felt what he assumed for one absurd moment was a log thrown across his chest, and he was flung against the wall.

“I put up with a lot of your attitude,” Gray snarled, holding MacCready in place with just his forearm, and MacCready tried to hide the fact that he was gasping for breath. “But I will  _ not  _ tolerate it when it’s my life or yours on the line. Smarten up.”

“I distinctly recall you telling me that  _ that  _ specifically was what you were sick of,” MacCready said, twisting his mouth into a grimace, feigning like he was thinking hard. “Pretty sure that was it.”

Gray took a deep breath, and for a second MacCready was afraid he’d finally crossed the line.  _ This is the day I get that ass beating.  _ Or worse. Nah, Gray wouldn’t abandon him to the raiders. At least, MacCready didn’t think he would. But he’d made quite a few incorrect judgement calls already. But instead of saying anything, Gray simply dropped his arm, readied his rifle, and pointed down the stairs. “Move out,” he said, taking the lead.

_ Okay. Didn’t expect that. _ He cautiously went after Gray, his rifle drawn, listening carefully for anyone approaching the main production floor. It was definitely a bad tactical decision to be in such a wide open area. He didn’t like sneaking around buildings he was unfamiliar with, but he wouldn’t say that to Gray. If he was being honest, though, he didn’t really like buildings to begin with. He often found himself getting lost in hallways that inexplicably looped back on themselves, and the narrow, perfectly straight hallways that offered no cover for sometimes yards at a time made him uncomfortable.

“Take point,” Gray said suddenly, pointing to a small, closed off area in a far corner.

“Uh--why?” MacCready said before he could stop himself, but quickly did as he was told. Today was probably the wrong day to question Gray’s tactical decisions. He’d never steered MacCready wrong before, although he supposed today probably was a good day to expect to get jumped from behind and get the shit kicked out of him.

_ Now I gotta watch my back  _ and  _ watch the guy watching my back. Fantastic. _ He peeked into the small enclave, hoping his rifle would be enough to scare anyone hiding inside into submission; it was way too long range of a weapon to firing in such close quarters, unless he wanted to fire from the hip, and he wouldn’t blame Gray for slapping him in the face for even considering it. “Clear,” he said, stepping inside and surveying it. He checked the drawers of the desk situated in the middle of the room. Nothing. Even the terminal was broken. He turned around to leave, but Gray was somehow there, again, right behind him, making him jump.

“Jesus, dude. One of these days you’re gonna get your head blown off, doing that sh--stuff.” He stepped around Gray, shaking his head, when he heard Gray set his rifle down on the desk.

_ What the-- _ ? He turned back. Gray was leaning against the desk now, arms crossed.

“Can I...help you?” MacCready asked. Guy was acting weird as hell all of a sudden. Maybe it wasn’t out of the question to think Gray was gonna throw him to the raiders.

Gray pointed to the desk. “Over here.”

MacCready forced the rush of desire that instantly began bubbling up inside him back down. “No way. We already played that game. I’m not falling for it twice.”

“I didn’t ask,” Gray said, his voice hard.

_ Oh shit, he’s serious. _ “Gray, come on,” MacCready said, forcing a nervous chuckle. “Dude, there’s raiders in here still, they…” he let his voice trail off. Something about Gray’s face told him that it would do amazing things for his libido to kill a man while he was balls deep in another. That was a whole ‘nother level of crazy he wasn’t sure he was prepared for. That was Hancock-level insanity. That was a point he had promised himself he’d never get to.

Gray stood up.

_ Oh, crap, oh crap, this is about to get real, _ MacCready thought, turning and making a mad dash for the door, but Gray was on him before he even made it that far, one thick arm looped around his waist, the other clamped tightly over his mouth.

“Love it when they run,” he muttered against MacCready’s neck, squeezing his stomach a bit tighter.

MacCready breathed angrily through his nose and snarled something against Gray’s hand, and MacCready could feel the older man’s mouth curve into that crooked, shark-like grin on his neck. Oh, man, he was in trouble.

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gray is a teasing bastard that takes after my own heart, I swear. This will probably have only one more chapter, I don't know; but the next one I can promise will come a lot sooner than this one did. It took a while to get the ball rolling but now that it's rolling, it's rolling, lol.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this was probably gonna be it but I'm starting to doubt it. I think I've got at least one more chapter in me, but we'll see.

“Answer something for me,” Gray said, dragging MacCready backwards, ignoring the young mercenary’s thrashing as though he were a particularly violent kitten. He sat on the edge of the desk and wrapped both legs around MacCready’s waist, pinning his arms to his side, keeping one hand firmly pressed over his mouth. “You want me, don’t you? I want to hear you say it.”

MacCready mumbled something indistinguishable, and Gray tightened his grip, earning a muffled “ _ ow, ow, ow, ow”  _ from MacCready.

“Don’t fuck around with me, kid. Answer the question.” Gray let go, leaving his legs wrapped around MacCready’s waist while he fished something out of one of his belt pockets.

“No way, man. Especially not here. We’re under fire, this is not a good idea,” MacCready said, trying to jerk Gray over the side of the desk, but  _ damn,  _ he was heavy. If Gray managed to pin him down, it would be all over, there was no way he’d be able to throw off his weight. The thought made MacCready’s breath catch in his throat; he  _ dared  _ Gray to try. Gray was fast, but MacCready was faster. A lot faster. He had that advantage over him, if he could just get out of Gray’s ridiculously strong hold--

“You’ve got one last chance,” Gray said, and MacCready noticed with a thrill of adrenaline that Gray had pulled a roll of duct tape from somewhere. 

_ Obviously he carries duct tape everywhere.  _

“I’ve seen how you look at me. Don’t lie to me.” He pulled a long strip from the roll, and MacCready’s chest tightened.

“Alright, alright, I want you, man, I want you bad, I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, alright?” MacCready gasped, his cheeks flushing a deep red. God, but he hated this guy.

Gray bit off the strip of tape, and MacCready resumed his panicked thrashing. “Hey, I did what you said, come on--”

Without a word, Gray took MacCready by the neck and held him still, clapping the strip of tape over his mouth. He tore off a second, and then a third, wrapping them completely around the back of MacCready’s head, who snorted indignantly and tried his best to twist away.

“You can stop that, or I’ll bind your hands next,” Gray said, sending another flash of adrenaline mixed with--was it fear, or arousal? Was there a difference when Gray was involved?--through MacCready.

Gray let his legs fall slack, seemingly testing the waters to see if MacCready would bolt, or at least try to wrestle out of the tape. He did neither, instead, he watched Gray, his shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breathing. “Peace and quiet. Hm.” He snickered, and MacCready snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fuck you ‘til you can’t walk, then, huh? I think that can be arranged. Strip.”

MacCready’s eyes flicked to the door. He could make it, easy, he could be home free, he couldn’t say for certain where home was, but it didn’t matter, anywhere was better than here. This was definitely gonna end poorly...but the way Gray was eyeing him, it was more than lust, it was  _ need,  _ for  _ him,  _ for scrawny little RJ MacCready, and he hadn’t been needed in a very, very long time. Besides, he’d wanted this, right?

Dutifully, he shrugged out of his duster, letting it fall to a heap on the floor, his ruined Gunners uniform following suit, until he was wearing nothing but his hat, his face and ears pink from embarrassment. He felt so awkward, he wanted desperately to say something, anything to lighten the mood.  _ Hey, man, staring’s ten caps. _

Gray made a sound of approval in his throat, pacing around MacCready, and his approval, combined with the desire rolling off him in near-tangible waves, made MacCready’s cock twitch and stiffen with anticipation. He moaned softly into his gag, what was Gray  _ doing? _

“Now me,” Gray said, his voice husky, and MacCready could tell he was going to snap soon. He glanced down between Gray’s legs and noted that his uniform was having a hard time containing his erection. MacCready nodded and fumbled with the neck tab of the uniform, unzipping it to Gray’s navel and pushing the sleeves down over his arms, exposing his broad, lightly furred chest. He continued pushing the uniform down over Gray’s ass, his thighs, his calves, finally situating himself on his knees and taking Gray’s dick in one hand and--

He looked up at Gray and raised an eyebrow.

“Get up,” Gray snapped. “None of that.” He pointed to the desk, and MacCready scrambled to it while Gray stepped out of his uniform. MacCready situated himself carefully, trying not to pinch his balls, then looked up at Gray, and his breathing hitched. He was one thing when he was in his uniform, but fully naked...MacCready was suddenly aware of how rail-thin his body was in comparison. Gray wasn’t perfectly toned by any means, his stomach had the remnants of a slight gut that had quickly faded under the rigorous stress of the Commonwealth, his biceps weren’t impeccably cut like those Brotherhood asshats, but his strength under the soft edges of his body was more than apparent.

He approached MacCready slowly and took him by the shoulders, running his hands over MacCready’s arms, lighting a fire that spread through his entire body, making him squirm and look up at Gray pleadingly.

“Lean back and grab your ankles,” Gray ordered, and MacCready did, not noticing that Gray had picked up the roll of duct tape again.

“ _ Hm mm! Hm mm!”  _ MacCready frantically shook his head again and tried to sit up, but he had realized too late what Gray was doing; one wrist was already taped to his ankle, and he could only watch as Gray did the other, leaving him completely helpless. If a raider walked in here?  _ Now?  _ Oh, man.

His thoughts were immediately interrupted by the feel of Gray’s fingers, slick with oil he’d no doubt brought with him as well-- _ ugh, he planned this from the start-- _ gently spreading him apart, working tight circles around his hole. MacCready rocked his hips against his fingers and spread his legs wider, losing himself in the sensation. Oh,  _ man.  _ Let a raider walk in--see if he gave a shit.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Gray asked, flashing that stupid crooked grin, slipping a flinger into MacCready and reveling in the way he tensed and whined under his touch. “Now I see why you were so eager to get fucked, and by me, no less.” He retreated and resumed his relentless, steady circling motions, then slid two fingers in, carefully working him open, and MacCready groaned embarrassingly loud. By the time Gray had added a third finger, MacCready was writhing, bucking against Gray’s fingers and nearly screaming against the tape.

Finally, Gray grasped his own cock, standing over MacCready and stroking his shaft absently, taking great pleasure in the way the younger man glared at him, his breathing heavy and loud, sweat pouring off his face. He grinned, and then positioned himself at MacCready’s entrance, pulling him by the thighs right up to the edge of the desk. Carefully, he pushed the head of his penis into MacCready, slowly, gently, earning tiny whimpers and grunts as he fought to free his wrists. Gray pulled back out, then inched back in, all the way to base, and MacCready nearly came undone.

“Don’t you dare,” Gray snarled, drawing close. “Not until I tell you so. Understand?”

MacCready nodded, but wasn’t sure he could keep any promises, especially not when Gray retreated and slammed back into him, causing MacCready to throw his head back and cry out a loud, wordless yell. Gray thrust into him again and again, his grip on MacCready’s thighs like iron, jerking his arms in their sockets but MacCready couldn’t care less, in fact, he wished Gray would go harder; the pain in his shoulders radiated through the rest of his body, making him feel as though he were coming unglued. He couldn’t hold it in much longer, he didn’t know what Gray would do but he had to let go, he had to--

“Do it. Now.” Gray’s voice was low and breathy, and it sent MacCready over the edge, his untouched dick shooting hot ejaculate over his stomach as he arched his back and screamed into his gag. Gray was seconds behind him; he pulled out and gritted his teeth and grunted quietly, coating MacCready’s stomach for a second time.

MacCready fell limp against the desk, letting his head droop to one side.  _ Holy shit. _

Gray sighed once, then straightened to his full height and returned to his uniform, piled in a heap on the floor, giving MacCready a chance to admire him from behind. He almost let his mind run wild when he heard an unfamiliar voice just outside the door, turning his blood to ice.

“ _ Woah. _ ” Laughter. The sound of a pistol being cocked. “Hope it was worth it, rookie.”

_ Oh shit, oh shit-- _ MacCready struggled to slip his hands from the tape binding him to his ankles, but they were still stuck fast. He  _ knew  _ this was gonna happen, he  _ told  _ Gray--

“You stay the  _ fuck away from him _ !” Gray fired his rifle through the door, startling the raider, sending him ducking for cover. Gray took the opportunity to sprint to the door, still stark naked; he stepped over the threshold and leveled his rifle to the raider’s chest, who stopped dead in his tracks, his face registering nothing short of surprise as Gray fired twice in quick succession, dropping them with the expression of shock still etched on their face.

He turned back, and MacCready was startled by the look of absolute... _ concern _ on his face. He’d seen Gray stressed before, but...not like this. He wriggled under the tape, and Gray ran his fingers through his hair, which MacCready noticed was greying--hadn’t it been straight brown when they first met? He went to MacCready’s side and unwound the tape, crumpling it into a large ball and tossing the whole wad into the corner.

“Get dressed,” he said, stepping into his uniform and pulling it up over his shoulders in one swift movement. “We only get one of those.”

MacCready tore the tape from his mouth and rubbed his face, glancing down at his stomach. Before he could say anything, Gray had tossed the raider’s shirt to him, and he gratefully wiped himself off. As he slipped back into his own uniform, he cleared his throat, and Gray rounded on him.

“What?”

MacCready hurriedly buttoned his shirt. “Uh...actually, you know what, nevermind, it’s cool. Lead the way, boss.” He buckled his belt around the waist of his duster, flung his rifle over his back, and gave Gray a thumbs up.

Gray rolled his eyes and growled, leaving the room without a word. MacCready practically skipped after him, still unable to wipe the huge grin from his face.


	4. Chapter 4

MacCready twisted his fingers around the stiff leather of the collar. Hoo, boy. He wasn’t sure he could do this. 

_ Come on, sack up. Nothing to it. Just hop on and show that angry prick who’s calling the shots around here now. Just get it around his neck before he starts thrashing and kills you. _

Deep breaths. Okay. Simple. Like riding a mechanical bull. Probably. Gray had told him about this bull-riding thing but he still wasn’t entirely sure he  _ got _ it. Whatever, didn’t matter, if they could do  _ that, _ he could do  _ this.  _ Gray was fast asleep, his back to MacCready, if there was ever an easier target, he couldn’t think of one.

He had taken a single step forward when Gray’s voice cut through the silence, making him freeze in place.

“What are you doing?”

MacCready scowled at Gray’s back in disbelief. “What the hell, man? You did  _ not  _ hear me just now.”

“Obviously I did.” Gray rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes, his thin wool blanket sliding off to barely cover his midriff. MacCready hadn’t realized he slept in the nude and blushed. He hadn’t expected that. He really hadn’t expected Gray to look so good, even in his sleep, either. Even his stupid, Brotherhood-douchebag-looking fade looked great on him despite being tousled and knotted from sleep. Or...whatever it was that Gray did. MacCready wasn’t 100% certain that Gray ever slept.

“What is that?” Gray asked, turning his head to the side and blearily eyeing the collar that MacCready was holding with both hands, the roll of duct tape and the pair of handcuffs around one wrist, the strip of fabric torn from one of the Brotherhood flags Gray had been using to tie the door shut tied around his other wrist.

“Um--” MacCready hadn’t really gotten to that point. He was really hoping he was just going to catch Gray off-guard. If he was being honest with himself, he had figured Gray would have chased him out of here by now, sending him back to the nest he’d made for himself on the other side of the truck stop.

Gray sat up on one elbow and narrowed his eyes at MacCready. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

_ Oh, well, abort mission, I tried, can’t fault a guy for trying. _ His arms were behind his back in a flash, and he gave Gray a very unconvincing grin and a shrug. “Nothing, it’s nothing, I’m just gonna head back--”

“Get over here.”

MacCready couldn’t say no when Gray took that tone with him, a low growl that lit a fire in his belly, and he suspected Gray knew exactly what it did to him. He sidled over to Gray’s bunk and sheepishly held out his arms.

Gray looked at the assortment of objects for an uncomfortably long time, and for a moment, MacCready felt a nagging disappointment. He was probably going to have them taken from him and used on him. Not that the idea wasn’t appealing to him--but it wasn’t what he had been planning on for that night.

“You want to collar me?” Gray asked, finally looking up at MacCready, his eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance, and MacCready fidgeted under his glare.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I’ll just get rid of it--”

Gray held up his hand to stop MacCready, and then pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “So let me get this straight. You wanted to come in here, and get the drop on me, is that it? Collar me and gag me while I was asleep?”

MacCready exhaled sharply through his nose and rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”

Gray’s response wasn’t anything MacCready had ever expected he’d hear from him. “Go ahead and try.”

MacCready’s eyes widened in surprise. It wasn’t a challenge. It was an invitation. As if to further prove his point, Gray returned to his position on his back and put his arms over his head, giving MacCready his toothy smirk, encouraging him to take control.

“Oh. Um.” In a rush, MacCready dropped everything onto the file cabinet Gray used as a bedside table and immediately began to frantically undress.

“Mac. Kid. Slow it down.” Gray shifted his hands to a more comfortable position under his head. “You want to be in control? Take your time. Make me beg for it.”

MacCready’s ears burned. Jesus, he couldn’t even dominate this guy without criticism. “Alright, fine.” He finished stripping to his boxers and then threw one leg astride Gray’s torso, straddling his stomach. Gray sat patiently still, and MacCready faltered under his somewhat amused expression. As amused at Gray ever got, anyway.

“Now what?”

MacCready could have punched him. Maybe he would, too, the night was still young and he would be restrained soon enough. “Alright, uh...hands over your head. Grab the railing, come on, now.” He tried to inject his voice with the the same harsh, commanding timbre that Gray seemed to come by so naturally, but it fell flat. Fortunately, Gray did as he was told with no commentary, obediently grabbing the railing and waiting for further instructions.

“That’s...that’s good,” MacCready said, and his voice cracked. He really hoped that Gray had just assumed it was because of his arousal, and not to do with the fact that he was way out of his element here. He reached over to the file cabinet and took the handcuffs, quickly cuffing one of Gray’s wrists, then feeding the cuffs around the railing and cuffing the other.

“You have the keys, right?” Gray asked, craning his neck to better see the predicament he was in and testing the chain’s strength by giving it a hard yank.

“They’re around. Somewhere,” MacCready said, shrugging.

Gray yanked harder against the chain. Angrier this time. “Don’t fuck around with me,” he snapped.

“And what are you going to do about it?” MacCready asked, hyper-aware of the fact that, while pissing Gray off when there was nothing he could do about it was a lot hotter than he had expected, his legs  _ were  _ still free, and he suspected that might be enough of an advantage for Gray. That was going to have to change at some point. But first…

MacCready took the collar from the cabinet and ran his fingers over Gray’s neck, lightly trailing across his Adam’s apple, and Gray closed his eyes and tilted his head back to better expose it to MacCready. “You know, last time we did this, you bit me,” he said. “You know what happens to dogs who bite?”

“The suspense is killing me,” Gray said, but dutifully awaited his collar. MacCready tucked it around the back of his neck and clumsily buckled it across his throat, then sat back to admire his work. Gray watched him with anticipation, a slight smile tugging at his lips. 

_ Woah. That’s new. _ MacCready slipped off the side of the bed to hide just how flustered he was. He knew he had wanted to do this, but  _ holy crap  _ he had not expected to be so horny so quickly. He couldn’t stop himself, seeing Gray so helpless, so completely at his mercy, it was too much; he hurriedly put one hand to his crotch and started stroking himself through his boxers.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Gray snapped, pulling at his chains again.

MacCready looked back at Gray and flashed what he hoped was a smirk to rival Gray’s own, earning a glare that sent a thrill of excitement through him. “Oh, right. Forgot you were here.” He slid his boxers off, kicking them off to join the heap with his duster and his uniform, and sat on the edge of the bed, where he continued stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm, Gray’s increasingly loud breathing only egging him on.

“Alright, kid, come on,” Gray said, and the note of desperation struck MacCready like a jolt of electricity, almost sending him tumbling over the edge.  _ Fuck,  _ he wanted to hear Gray beg. 

“S’matter, boss?”

“You know what the fuck’s the matter,” Gray said, and MacCready noted with a rush of pride that Gray’s ratty blanket had a gently rising peak forming in it.

There was no way he wasn’t gonna drag this out, no way, not now. He let go of himself and snatched the torn flag from the cabinet. “I can remedy that, then.” He straddled Gray again and took in his piercing gaze one last time before blindfolding him, leaving the excess to form a long, orange tail that snaked across his pillow. “Out of sight out of mind, yeah?”

MacCready stilled; he’d wanted to kiss Gray before but had neither had the chance or seen Gray show any desire for it. But now he was in control--it was his show now, right? He let a short puff of air, it was now or never. 

Gray drew a sharp breath when he felt MacCready’s lips on his own. He had never expected it--never really done it, either. But MacCready was gentle, planting a soft kiss and then retreating just a hair to gauge Gray’s reaction, which caused the smallest bit of affection for the kid to rise up within Gray; affection he quickly tamped down.

Sensing no resistance from Gray, MacCready delved down again, fiercer this time, forcing his tongue into Gray’s mouth, sweeping it against the older man’s, who let out a quiet, surprised moan, setting off a new wave of heat that settled into MacCready's groin.

“You like that, then?” MacCready asked, leaning back just a bit, sweat already forming over his brow.

“I swear to God if you don’t shut up and--”

MacCready silenced him with another kiss, his mouth crashing down hard on Gray’s, who kissed MacCready back with a sort of stiffness that the young mercenary recognized.  _ Give it time. He’ll learn. _

Gray’s body bucked under MacCready, he twisted and pulled at his cuffs; he hated not being in control but the way MacCready made him feel was indescribable; when MacCready broke away and ran a shaky hand through Gray’s hair, he flinched at the touch but still wanted more. 

“You’re really a sight to see when you want something,” MacCready said, nipping at the scar on Gray’s lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking hard, then drawing the tip of his tongue over the remainder of the scar, which arced across his cheek, ending just under his left eye. “Tell me something, Gray. You want me, don’t you?” He couldn’t fight the grin spreading across his face as he repeated Gray’s words to him.

“You’ll have to try a little harder than that,” Gray said, but the way he panted the words, the way he held his body, so rigid, so tightly wound and ready for anything MacCready dished out, his need was painfully obvious.

MacCready scooted further up until he was sitting on Gray’s chest, his thighs on either side of his head; he took his aching cock in one hand and put the tip of it against Gray’s mouth, who let out an angry snort--if he hadn’t been blindfolded, he would assuredly be giving MacCready a hard, penetrative stare that would have meant punishment any other day of the week--but took it all the same, letting MacCready push it all the way to the base. He made a strangled choking sound as it hit the back of his throat, but powered through it, determined to show MacCready that he was capable.

“ _ Holy sh--shit,” _ MacCready hissed, unable to think of a suitable expletive as he thrust into the wet heat of Gray’s mouth, feeling Gray try to keep from simply getting fucked but MacCready wasn’t having it. He bent over and grabbed the railing for support, rocking his hips against Gray’s face, who pulled himself up further and grasped MacCready’s wrists, tight enough that MacCready winced, but no way was he stopping. 

“Oh-- _ fuck _ , man--oh my God, I’m--” MacCready wasn’t gonna last much longer. Keeping one hand on the railing, he fisted the other into Gray’s hair, taking away all pretense that Gray had any semblance of control and held him still while MacCready slammed his cock into him. 

“ _ Shitshitshit _ ...I’m-- _ ungh-- _ ” MacCready went rigid and threw his head back; Gray cried out around MacCready’s dick as he felt waves of come spurting down his throat, but he swallowed what he could, leaving the rest to trickle down his cheeks. He nipped MacCready’s shaft with the edge of his teeth, making the younger man yelp and pull himself free. “Hey! What did I tell you about biting?” he asked breathlessly.

“Must have forgotten,” Gray smirked and licked his lips, nearly stopping MacCready’s heart. Was it too late to punch him in the face? Of course not, he was still restrained, which meant he wasn’t going anywhere until MacCready said he was.

“I guess you’ll just need another lesson, then.”

“Excuse me?” Gray’s face fell, and MacCready almost laughed out loud. Gray, always on top of everything, somehow hadn’t foreseen this. “MacCready, untie me.”

MacCready ignored him; he hopped back onto the bunk, sitting painfully Gray’s legs, pinning them in place and tearing a long strip of tape from the roll.

“Whatever the fuck you think you’re doing, you better stop thinking and you better start letting me go,” Gray said, fighting the swelling terror building in his chest. MacCready had taken to this a little too much for his liking. It was time to call it a night. But MacCready didn’t stop; already, he’d attached one ankle to the railing on the opposite end of his bunk and was working on the other. He was well and truly helpless now; blind, immobilized…

MacCready sat astride Gray’s stomach again, fumbling again with the clasp of the collar and for one ridiculous moment Gray thought maybe MacCready would take it off. Nope--just made it tighter. His deep breathing made it constrict around his neck, he felt the buckle pressed firmly into his carotid, and he swallowed. It was painful, but--

MacCready was tearing another strip of tape, and Gray remained still. “Dogs that bite get muzzled.”

“I don’t think so,” Gray snarled, facing where he approximated MacCready to be.

“I do,” MacCready said. He drove the heel of his palm into Gray’s chin, snapping his mouth shut and taping it firmly before Gray could react. “Damn, you look good, boss.”  _ Really,  _ really  _ fucking good. _

Gray strained at the tape holding his ankles firmly in place, at his cuffs; he bent at the waist, pulling hard at all three points, but they stuck fast. A wave of panic crashed through him, searing his nerves, setting his entire body on edge; this wasn’t anything he had a point of reference for, and when MacCready’s fingertips skimmed over his abdomen he jolted and brought his pelvis up to meet MacCready’s touch as if it were electric.

“For someone who likes to be in charge all the time,” MacCready said softly, gently flicking the underside of Gray’s twitching and stiffened cock, making him jerk again and cry out in surprise. “You sure seem to like this.”

Gray growled something into his gag, but he was cut off when he felt MacCready tilt his ass upwards and start working him open; his fingers were quickly replaced by his tongue, plunging deep inside Gray, his other hand pumping Gray’s cock, who tossed his head like a horse and groaned, loudly, louder than MacCready had ever heard from him. He came in just a few short minutes, splattering his thighs and stomach, leaving MacCready to carefully retreat and lower Gray back onto the mattress. He watched Gray’s chest rise and fall dramatically as his pulse returned to normal and his breathing slowed.

MacCready was almost tempted to leave him, and in his spent state, Gray didn’t look like he’d care. He really did look good, somehow even better when he was completely wrung out like this.

_ And, you know, he is a total prick. Could stand to be knocked down a peg or two. _

Gray shifted, waiting for MacCready to untie him. MacCready crouched by his side and stroked his hair. “Listen, I have to go.” A deep, irritated sigh from Gray that MacCready knew full well the meaning of. “I’ll be back in the morning. Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone, alright?” He gave Gray a quick peck on the forehead, earning another  _ just you wait until I’m out of here  _ growl from him.

And with that, he went back to his room, cackling all the way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I've got a few more chapters to go. This one's short but there'll be more, I promise.

It was nearly midday when MacCready woke with a jolt in the pile of sleeping bags that made up his bed.  _ Oh, crap. Gray’s gonna be pissed. _ He tried to scramble out of his sleeping bag but the damn thing was knotting around his legs, even though he still wasn’t really sure what he was going to do when he got to Gray. Guy was probably going to make him eat his own boots.  _ Just gonna have to leave him there forever, I guess.  _ Not that MacCready had a problem with that. Just picturing having Gray right where he wanted him at all times, his long, heavily-tanned and overworked body restrained and exposed for MacCready to use whenever he wanted, made him redden and have to forcefully push out the desire pooling in his stomach.

Finally free from his sleeping bag, he pulled on his boxers and sprinted to the garage, his bare feet padding against the concrete floor with quiet  _ fwap fwap fwap _ s. He skidded to a stop outside the sliding door and flung himself over the threshold, apologies and excuses already forming in his head--and stopped short.

Gray was gone. MacCready’s blood ran cold and he immediately backed up against the wall, piecing together the scene. Pieces of the tape that had held his ankles were still stuck to the railing, there were a few pieces of tape crumpled and scattered on the floor, and the handcuffs were gone. So he probably wasn’t dead, but he  _ had  _ apparently broken free, using only the power of his own rage. That wasn’t a Gray that MacCready really wanted to encounter. He pressed hard against the wall, not daring to move and expose his back. Gray could be anywhere, and he was obviously waiting for MacCready to make a misstep. He wasn’t patient, by any means, so if MacCready held still for long enough, Gray would eventually come to him. It wasn't a great plan, but at least Gray wouldn’t have the element of surprise, meaning MacCready could sprint out of the truck stop without an issue and be well on his way to--where? Back to Goodneighbor? Sure, back to Goodneighbor, where Gray would eventually find him, or someone else would hire him.

The thought was accompanied by a much more surprising one-- _ no, thank you.  _ MacCready tensed, thinking for sure he’d heard footsteps crunch over gravel just outside.  _ What, this works better for you? You like living with a prick who’s probably gonna kill you as soon as he finds you? _

Definitely footsteps, just outside the overhead door. Gray was losing his touch.  _ Guess it’s to be expected when he’s that old.  _ Gray’s rapid aging since escaping the vault was no longer a subject of speculation--he hadn’t been born into the shitshow that had replaced the world he knew, acclimating to radiation wasn’t really something you  _ did. _ So maybe now really was a good time for MacCready to cut it off. He wasn’t sure he could handle Gray dropping dead on him; losing a client wouldn’t really endear him to another any time soon.

A quiet tinkle of chain alerted him to someone just behind him, coming up on the other side of the wall, and in his confusion, he panicked for a split second, freezing in place before he attempted to bolt for the garage door; it was all the time Gray needed to appear practically from nowhere and overtake him. So apparently he wasn’t losing his touch after all.

_ I'm an idiot. Misdirection, the  _ one _  thing he's good at-- _

“I don’t think so,” Gray snarled, catching MacCready around the waist and dragging him, kicking and biting, back to his bunk, where he was thrown down onto his back, his legs hanging over the side. Gray was pinning him down by the wrists, and MacCready couldn’t help but notice that while Gray was in his uniform, he was still collared and his wrists were still cuffed--although the chain was broken. There was no way he’d broken it, but how…?

“I’m sorry, man, I am, really, I slept in, I really didn’t mean to leave you like that forever, I was gonna be back in a few hours, I--” MacCready said, his words running together, praying that he wasn't about to get hit. He risked a glance at Gray, and he immediately lost his train of thought. Gray wasn’t angry. For a moment, MacCready was transported back to the Corvega plant, when a raider had tried to kill him. The look on Gray’s face…

“Dude, are you--what’s wrong?” MacCready tried to shrug off Gray’s hold, but it was tight as hell, as per usual.  _ So this is how we’re gonna have this conversation. Great. _ “Hey, I really am sorry, I won’t do it again, I just--”

“No, you won’t. This?” Gray gestured between the two of them. “It’s over. We’re not doing this anymore.” He let go of MacCready and went to the filing cabinet, leaving MacCready with a sick, aching feeling in his stomach that prevented him from sitting up.

“Come on, it was an accident, we don’t have to do... _ that _ ...again, it was just a one time thing,” MacCready said, leaving his arms over his head, stretching as seductively as he could, very aware of just how scrawny he was, but that didn’t matter, Gray wanted him and that was enough--

Gray closed his fingers around a box of bobby pins and slammed the file cabinet drawer shut. “I  _ said. No. _ We’re done, MacCready.”

_ Oh. _

MacCready suddenly felt very naked. He desperately wanted to cover himself; he crossed his arms over his chest and slid onto the floor. Gray was busily picking at the locks on his cuffs, and it dawned on MacCready just how much Gray had changed just in the short time they’d been...well, he wasn’t sure what he’d call what they were doing but things like that didn’t need a name anyway. Especially not when they were over and done with. Especially not since Gray had practically flipped a switch and was back to the same miserable, stoic bastard that had been repairing the generators. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and slunk past Gray, who paid him no mind and it made MacCready somehow feel even more exposed as he made his way back to his corner of the truck stop.

_ So I guess he doesn’t want me. I’m just a plaything. Not even that, just a hired gun with benefits. _

MacCready collapsed into his pile of sleeping bags, gathering them up and covering himself with them, too overcome with a sudden lethargy to get dressed.

_ Really should have just gone to Goodneighbor.  _ He flopped down onto his back and buried himself in his sleeping bags. Gray would probably come looking for him at some point to ask why he hadn’t packed his things and left yet, but he already knew that his legs wouldn’t carry him much further than Starlight before he lost interest in moving.

_ Starlight’s far enough for now. He can’t track for shit anyway. _

That wasn’t fair, though. Gray had started this. He was the one who put his hands on MacCready first. Why was MacCready the one who had to crawl out of here with his tail between his legs?

_ Because Gray’s a fucking asshole, that’s why.  _ MacCready snatched his Gunner uniform off the top of his box of belongings, sending his backpack sprawling, spilling it’s contents across his sleeping bag. Of course. He quickly climbed into his uniform and gathered up what he could, sorting through his ammunition and provisions, deeming what would be necessary and what wouldn’t for a solo trip to Goodneighbor. The .50 caliber rounds were just dead weight, he didn’t need so many tins of water…

_ Wait. _

“Oh, no,” MacCready breathed, checking and rechecking each pocket, praying he’d remembered wrong, that he hadn’t actually put his wooden soldier proudly on display with his collection of lunchboxes and robot kits, all of which currently resided in Gray’s room, and there was no way he was going back there.

But he couldn’t leave without it. That was out of the question. And yet, as he dug through his bag, the miserable, sinking feeling taking root in him, he had to admit that it was definitely in Gray's room, and then ask himself, was it worth his dignity? Was it worth going back and hearing Gray snap at him? Of course it was, what would Lucy think if she saw him now, shaken up by some decrepit asshole with a stupid haircut? She’d expect him to go get it, obviously. To be a soldier and get it back, dignity be damned.

MacCready flung his pack onto his back and sighed, biting down hard on his tongue to keep from crying, slipping quietly out the back door. Lucy was dead and gone. Her opinion on the subject was irrelevant.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I have an end goal in mind to tie this in with something else, and I'm trying to catch this up to even it up with that, so there's gonna be a couple sort of short chapters in pretty rapid succession to get this up to where I need it to be. It'll all make sense when I get there. Unless I decided to change directions halfway there. I do that sometimes.
> 
> Also, I have been informed that I incorrectly referred to Gray's haircut as a fade in an earlier chapter, when it is in fact an undercut. My bad, lol. I honestly ought to link a picture of him somewhere at some point, too, probably.

It was late when MacCready made it to Starlight and finally allowed himself to collapse into a heap in the bucket of one of the megaloaders. He let his pack drop the ground beside him and he curled into a tight ball, holding himself so tight that he almost couldn’t breathe but for some absurd reason he felt like if he let go he’d fall apart.

Gray didn’t change. He couldn’t change. MacCready had deluded himself into thinking he had--but, again, wasn’t that partially on Gray? He was the one who started this, he was the one who was acting like he’d changed, he was the one who let MacCready take control.  _ Take control, dumbass, not leave him tied down, blinded and gagged for fifteen hours.  _ He could hardly believe that just that morning--well, afternoon--the thought had made him blush and want to give Gray the best wake-up call he’d ever gotten. Now, it just made him sick to his stomach.

_ What’s wrong with me?  _ He had no idea. They were just screwing around, he knew that. At least, he thought he had. But the loud, hiccuping sobs that wracked his body told a different story. He just couldn’t make sense of it, he’d screwed around with clients before and things had all ended, no problem, either they’d died or they just no longer required MacCready’s services, and he’d walked away, their name already forgotten as he counted his caps. So what the hell was the deal? What made Gray any different? Aside from that fact that he was a grade A dickhead. Sure, he was good-looking, but MacCready had had plenty of attractive clientele. Hell, some of them he’d even told he’d loved them, it was what they wanted to hear and when they heard what they wanted to hear they were much more willing to part with their caps.

_ Maybe it’s not Gray I’m upset about. Maybe it’s… _ MacCready couldn’t bring himself to even think the words. His toy soldier remained with Gray, the one thing he had left of Lucy, but in that moment he knew that that’s where he wanted it to be. If it was anywhere in the world, he wanted it to be with Gray, so there would at least always be something of MacCready with him. Maybe someday he’d look at it and think of MacCready and regret sending him packing.

_ Doubtful,  _ MacCready thought bitterly.  _ Let’s be realistic. He’s probably going to burn it, as soon as he’s done tossing out all my lunchboxes and robot kits. _

Maybe that was it. He’d never made himself at home with another client before. All his belongings, he made sure to keep on him at all times, but this time was different. Gray had given him an entire corner of his truck stop, even let MacCready store his collections in his bedroom. Sometimes he even passed along things he thought MacCready would want, not even just weapons. Once he’d found a pair of comic books on his pillow after a scavenging trip had gone south and the two of them had limped home. He snickered quietly; Gray had been  _ pouring  _ blood from a cut on the side of his head--”damn good thing you don’t have any hair there, huh, boss? Finally, a legitimate reason to have an undercut”--and despite the jokes MacCready wasn’t sure Gray was going to make it but he shooed MacCready away and tended to it himself and somehow, the next morning--

_ What am I doing to myself? _ Reminiscing was bad news, it was cutting an already deep wound open even wider. But he deserved it. He never should have left Gray tied down like that.

_ I never should have kissed him, if we’re talking about stuff I never should have done _ . MacCready burned with embarrassment.  _ It wasn’t awkward because he hadn’t done it before. Oh, my God. I can’t believe I did that.  _

That was why Gray had kicked him out. It had to be. He thought MacCready was getting too close, was--God forbid--falling in love with him. MacCready snorted at the thought; falling in love with Gray, sure. There was nothing there to love. Gray knew that, MacCready knew that, but for some reason MacCready had gone and tried to play lover’s games with Gray.

_ I’d kick me out, too.  _

MacCready sat up, it was all a misunderstanding, he’d go back and explain everything and Gray would take him right back. He was already halfway out of the bucket and had his pack in one hand when he stopped himself.  _ Why would he take me back, though? If Gray’s made up his mind, he’s not changing it. Gray doesn’t change.  _ He slumped back into the bucket. If Gray said it was over, he meant it. 

_ This sucks.  _ Admitting that he missed Gray was like agreeing to go on a bender with Hancock; it would make any outside observer tilt their head and ask “but  _ why? _ ” A bender with Hancock was probably what he needed, though. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell the ghoul the specifics of why he needed it, although it would probably come out eventually. MacCready had a hard time keeping his tongue in check when he was under the influence. Whatever. So Hancock knew that MacCready had gotten in too deep with a client, maybe at the very least he’d order a standing “shoot on sight” policy if Gray ever tried to sneak his way back into Goodneighbor. No, MacCready didn’t want that. What he  _ really  _ wanted--his face and neck flared red just thinking about it--he  _ really  _ wanted Hancock’s cronies to bring Gray to him, bound, gagged, on his knees, desperate, flush with desire and panting with need, angling himself to better accommodate MacCready as he ran his fingers through Gray’s hair, down his neck, over his shoulders, whispering apologies and--

_ Stop it,  _ MacCready thought. He was only making it worse.  _ Why do I do this to myself?  _ He had to do something or he was going to go crazy. The old Super Duper Mart was nearby, Gray had always meant to scavenge it for scrap but they’d just never gotten to it. He could go down there and take the good stuff for himself, destroy the rest, chalk “maccready was here” on the wall to let Gray know that he spurned the wrong mercenary. That was a good plan, better than waiting around at Starlight until he was motivated to move again, anyway. 

He dumped out his pack into the bucket and covered his provisions with a piece of plywood dragged from Gray’s immense scrap pile. Nobody ever came to Starlight anyway, not even scavvers, but it didn’t hurt to be safe. He’d be back soon anyway.

 

***

 

The Super Duper Mart wasn’t as empty as he’d imagined. Even the Nuka-Cola machine in the foyer was still stocked, and he took one cautiously. Gray would never have allowed a raider camp to stay in operation so close to somewhere he was building, so what was the deal? In 200 years, practically  _ nobody  _ had come through? Suspicious.

_ Everyone’s probably avoided it thinking it was the first place that got looted,  _ MacCready reasoned, stepping daintily over one of the many skeletons littering the floor.  _ Joke’s on them, looks like MacCready gets the last laugh. _

He sorted through a few piles of debris before he quickly lost interest. Anything of value was going to take too much effort to haul out, and anything he could carry would only be of interest to someone like Gray. 

Except--there was something of interest. He peered over a counter into a small room lined with shelves--an armory of some kind? There were plastic bags littered over the floor, some with small, orange plastic bottles inside, so maybe not--and spotted a small stack of Grognak comics.  _ No way! Here?! _ He tried the door; locked. Of course it was. He was going to have to climb over the counter.  _ Kinda high,  _ he thought, sizing it up and looking around. The room was small, and getting back over the counter in a hurry wasn’t going to happen. But...the place did appear to be empty. 

As he scrambled over the counter, the thought that it could be a trap never crossed his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be patient with me, super long chapter coming up and it'll all come together, promise, lol

Dust and debris skittered to the floor as MacCready hopped down on the other side of the counter. Now that he was up close he could tell the bottles were old pre-war chem bottles, all empty, of course. He picked one up and turned it over in his long fingers, sounding out the unfamiliar name printed on the label.  _ Hm. Weird.  _ He tossed it aside and poked around the remaining bags, all empty. Even the shelves were empty.

_ Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.  _ He scoured a tight circle around the desk the comic books were sitting on intently, checking for a tripwire or a rigged shotgun. Nothing.  _ I guess someone really did just leave these here. So this trip wasn’t a bust, after all.  _ He carefully snatched them and jumped back against the wall, holding the books close to his body as he waited for an explosion. Still, nothing.

_ That is really weird.  _ He shrugged, rolled the books up and tucked them into his pants pocket and made back for the counter.

He was halfway over it when he heard the ghoul shriek at him from behind. A grody, rotten hand cinched around his ankle and threw him backwards, his chin rammed hard against the counter as he went back over and he could taste blood where he’d bitten his tongue. He landed hard on his side and the ghoul leapt onto him, screaming wordlessly and sinking it’s teeth into MacCready’s leg.

“ _ Getoffgetoffgetoff!”  _ MacCready yelled; his thin voice barely registered with the ghoul, but it jumped back in shock when MacCready snapped his elbow into it’s face. In a rage, it shook it’s head and made to lunge at MacCready, but he was faster. In a flash, his rifle was in his hands and he’d squeezed off three rounds into the ghoul’s face, who fell slump onto his lap, bringing attention to the searing pain that now burned in his thigh.

“Oh, no,” he said, ripping open his pant leg and getting a good look at the bite wound. The ghoul’s teeth had broken the skin with no problem, went deep into his flesh, where no doubt an infection was already forming. An infection that would probably cost him his leg, considering the amount of effort it was going to take getting over that counter. The exertion alone would probably be enough to speed the infection along to irreparable levels.  _ And a mercenary without a leg is no better than a dead mercenary.  _ Which he would be anyway, if he didn’t move soon.

_ Great. Just what I wanted. Everything just went perfectly for me today, didn’t it? _ He rolled the ghoul off him and kicked it in the face with his good leg, hard; it’s nose crunched and folded and oozed a small amount of rapidly thickening black blood. “Fuck you, man.  _ Fuck. You,” _ he said, enunciating each word with another kick. The ghoul didn’t respond, obviously, and he spat out a mouthful of blood. He had to get up, now. He steeled his nerve and made an effort to stand, but the pain in his thigh suddenly became white hot pangs of agony, traveling up and down his leg with such force that it dropped him back to the floor, both hands wrapped tightly around the wound. His rifle clattered to his side, forgotten, as he ground his teeth against the pain.

_ How am I supposed to get out of here?  _ He looked to the door, it had been locked from the outside, which meant he could probably unlock it from this side and avoid climbing over the counter altogether. A flicker of hope started to kindle inside him, maybe he could get out of here, maybe he could even save his leg, if he got outside maybe he could get someone’s attention and trade for a stimpak, he’d give them anything; his rifle, his duster--

A low hiss stopped his train of thought. It sounded like another ghoul, but... _ if there’s more ghouls in here, why haven’t they attacked yet?  _ It wasn’t like ferals to hide in the shadows, and...his mind went to the stack of comic books, lying in wait, in full view, in a room that was near impossible to run out of or fight out of. Were these ghouls setting traps? Was that possible? They certainly weren’t feral, if that was the case--

Before he could finish his thought, a second ghoul sprung from behind one of the counters and MacCready swept up his rifle, his body running purely on autopilot as adrenaline coursed through him. He fired two shots at it, dropping it in it’s tracks, and he took a moment to catch his breath. They were setting traps, definitely. That ghoul had just been sitting there that whole time, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. He was waiting for MacCready to drop his guard. How did it know how to do that? There was no way--

His arm was on fire. He screamed and jerked away from the ghoul that had somehow managed to sneak around him and bite down on his arm; blood, his own blood, dripped over his arm and onto the floor and the ghoul looked for a moment like it was going to lap it up before MacCready butted it in the face with his rifle. Another ghoul was prowling around his other side on all fours; he shot it once, but it merely howled in pain and jumped back, holding its shoulder and hopping backwards onto its haunches, giving MacCready time to put a bullet between the eyes of the one that had bit him. He went to shoot at the other, but when he returned his attention to it, it had disappeared into the shadows again.

He checked his magazine. Two left. He had another in his duster with another eight but that was it. He hadn’t known he had to conserve ammo, he had stupidly thought this was going to be an in-and-out simple operation, that if things had started to look bad he was going to turn tail and run and only fire if he had to. 

_ Yeah. No reason to expect this was going to be a shitshow. You had every reason to believe this was going to be fine. _

He tried to sneak a peek at his arm, but the blood was making him sick. He was starting to feel dizzy, how much had he lost? Too much, if he was feeling dizzy. He needed a tourniquet. The ghouls were wearing clothes, he could use those, sure. They were ratty, but they’d do the job. Probably. He nudged the first one closer to himself with his toe-- _ hey, my leg doesn’t hurt so bad, once I kill that other ghoul I’ll be able to walk out of here, no problem-- _ and tugged at it’s shirt. Hm. It wasn’t ripping off like MacCready had pictured it would. Well, that was a plus, at least they weren’t  _ that  _ ratty.

“Come on, ghoul, take your shirt off for me,” MacCready mumbled, giggling to himself and trying to work the shirt up over the ghoul’s head. For some reason it seemed really important that he not let it touch the ghoul’s blood, but...he couldn’t remember  _ why,  _ exactly. 

_ Contaminants. Contaminants. Right. Don’t want dirty gross blood mixing with my beautiful clean blood. _ Maybe he didn’t even need the tourniquet. He was feeling so much better.

_ No,  _ he thought harshly, a moment of clarity shining through the rapidly building fog.  _ No, I need a tourniquet. Get the tourniquet on. Then find a way out of here, or I’m going to die in here. _ He managed to get the shirt off after a long struggle of yanking and tearing and kicking, and he tore a strip off the bottom, quickly tying it around his arm and feeling immensely proud of himself.

_ Okay. Next most important thing is to get out of here.  _ The door. The locked one. It had to be locked from the inside, he had to get to it and it would be a simple matter of turning the lock and walking out.  _ Maybe not walking,  _ he thought, tearing another strip from the ghoul’s shirt and tying it poorly around his leg, which was alarmingly pale, something he didn’t notice, he was more preoccupied with situating himself into a position that was easy to move in. He could crawl, he supposed, but that would make using his gun almost impossible. But he only had to make it to the front door, how hard could  _ that  _ be? Something nagged at the back of his mind, something told him that he was forgetting something, but he couldn’t fathom what. There was only two things he had to do, get the tourniquet on and get to the door.

Footsteps. He could hear footsteps. That was the thing he was forgetting. There was another ghoul. But it was coming from the other side of the counter. So...two ghouls. Unless this one had unlocked the door and walked out. Only one way to find out.

MacCready slung his rifle onto his back and cautiously made his way to the door. Whoever was outside, he’d be able to get the drop on, they wouldn’t be expecting him to be positioned on the floor, so he had that going for him. 

By the time he’d dragged himself to the door, his breath was coming in hard, ragged gasps, his adrenaline had long since been spent, and he was ready to give up.  _ I made it this far. Just keep going. Almost there.  _ He had been right, the door did have a lock on this side, a large deadbolt, the kind that locked with a simple twist of the latch, which he tried in vain to push with the muzzle of his rifle; it kept slipping off and he finally realized with a rush of irritation that he was going to have to sit up and reach for it.  _ Alright. On three. One...two...three. _ He heaved himself up and slapped at the lock, it turned easily, and the door swung open. He readied his rifle, carefully searching the floor outside for whoever or whatever was out there. A dark shape caught his eye; it had turned in shock when it heard the door open, but MacCready was somehow faster. He squeezed off a single round--and missed.

“Crap, crap, crap,” he muttered, taking aim and focusing every fiber of his being onto holding his rifle steady. He had one shot.  _ Make it count.  _ He let the air out of his lungs, held as still as he could, and brought the crosshairs up to the chest of the person rapidly approaching him, gun drawn-- _ not a ghoul, not a ghoul, it’s a person, it’s-- _

MacCready felt like he’d been hit with a bowling ball. It was Gray.

_ He came to kill me?  _ His gun was drawn, pointed right at him, maybe it was a mistake, maybe he didn’t know MacCready was here-- _ no, he had to know, why the hell else would be here? Do I shoot him before he gets a chance to shoot me?  _ Gray wasn’t stopping; it had been far too long, he’d had to have recognized MacCready by now, but he still advanced, he was going to kill him, which left MacCready no choice; he squeezed the trigger, and Gray dropped.

MacCready’s head swam as he watched Gray fall to the floor, his rifle dropping beside him, bouncing off the floor, once, twice, and before it hit the floor a third time, he felt the last of his energy leave him, and he slumped to the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

Consciousness came and went to MacCready for a long time. For what felt like days, he was unsure of even the most basic things. Where was he? Was he dressed? Was he alive? Where was his rifle? Had he really killed Gray?

The last question haunted him. Sometimes he managed to slip into consciousness, thinking the entire time that nothing had changed and he was simply back at the truck stop with Gray and everything was fine before slipping back into darkness. Other times it was the first thing he remembered, the image of Gray’s face, frozen in shock, as he dropped to the ground. Had MacCready fired the shot that killed him? Was he really the one that had done that? It wasn’t possible, no. He had seen it happen, maybe. That was why he was fading in and out of consciousness, something had gone wrong, they had come under fire and someone had killed Gray, they had tried to kill MacCready but apparently they weren’t a very good shot and they would live to regret that, that was for sure…

He set about trying to answer simple questions first.  _ Am I dressed? _ He decided after what felt like a day had passed that no, he wasn’t, but he was covered up with something. From there, he deduced that he wasn’t on the floor of the Super Duper Mart anymore.  _ So then where am I?  _ That question was proving harder to answer. Bouts of awareness were coming in longer and longer intervals, and he decided that he’d know soon enough.

It came slowly to him. It started with a poster. There was an old bulletin board, with a flyer. He recognized the flyer, but he couldn’t place it. It listed times for things he didn’t recognize and had a big spaceship on it. He fell back into the darkness. When he woke, he noticed the walls were riveted steel, and curved. Had the Brotherhood found him? Was this their airship? He would have to find out next time as he dropped off again, this time, only sleeping.

When he woke, he felt something new. Different. He was curled on his side and something warm was fastened over his shoulder, it was moving. He looked up without moving his head; someone had their hand on him. They were very gently rubbing his arm with their thumb, almost absent-mindedly, their attention was clearly focused elsewhere, their other hand was cradling their face with their elbow rested on their knee, so MacCready couldn’t see who it was and if he recognized them. They sat like that for a while, and every so often, the person shifted and would skim their palm over MacCready’s back, between his shoulder blades, timidly pressing their thumb into the nape of his neck, drawing a small tingle through his stomach. MacCready tried to will the person to move, shouting at them in his mind to move so he could see who it was, but before long, he was asleep again.

He woke again with a mild level of irritation, frustrated that he’d let the opportunity to see who had rescued him slip away, but he noticed almost immediately after that the person was still there, but of course this time they were sitting on the edge of the bed MacCready realized he’d been set up in, their face buried in both hands now. No, they weren’t  _ still  _ there, he realized. They were there  _ again _ ; their clothes were different, last time, they were wearing a Brotherhood uniform, now, MacCready couldn’t tell what they were wearing, but it certainly wasn’t--

_ Wait.  _ He knew that Brotherhood uniform. He tried to sit up, but a pounding in his head threw him back down. “Gray?” he rasped.

Gray sat up with a jolt, turning his attention to MacCready, and instantly he regretted letting Gray know he was awake. His face was clearly etched with anger, but then again, MacCready didn’t blame him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you,” MacCready said, hoping he was better at lying than Gray was.  _ Obviously not, if you didn’t know it was him, you wouldn’t have apologized. Idiot. _

Gray sighed through his nose, his face unchanged, but pulled MacCready’s blanket further up over him. “You need your rest. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” 

“What about you?” MacCready tried to sit back up, but Gray held him down. “I--you were shot, how--”

“Ballistic armor,” Gray said, plucking at his uniform, which was tied off at his waist. He pivoted so that MacCready could see the enormous, angry bruise that had blossomed across his chest.

“I did...uh...pretty good,” MacCready said, reaching out to touch where he’d hit. It was just a little bit to the left, almost a direct hit on Gray’s heart, but Gray flinched and turned away before MacCready could touch. He wanted to apologize, but the words caught in his throat. Whatever--Gray wouldn’t believe them or care anyway. He curled in tighter on himself and glanced around again.  _ Starlight. We’re at Starlight Drive-In. In the projector building. _

“What the fuck were you doing, kid?” Gray asked after a few minutes without turning to look at MacCready.

“What do you care?”

“Those ghouls are halfway feral. They’re hopped up on chems of their own design, some kind of lidocaine crack and stimpak mixture. Do you have any idea what that means?”

MacCready cocked an eyebrow. “Uh…”

“They’re fast, they’re smart, and they’re desperate for their next fix. But they need stimpaks and those are a little more difficult to come by. Where do you think  _ those  _ come from? Why do you think we never went there?” 

MacCready was at a loss for words. He’d maybe heard whisperings, now that he thought about it. There was something dangerous in Lexington, that’s what they said, right? 

“And for what? Why were you even there? What the fuck did you take off for?” Gray brought his hands down hard enough on his knees that it made MacCready jump.

“Are you serious? You kicked me out, shithead. Or did you forget that?”

Gray rounded on MacCready, confusion mixed with anger now. “What? I never kicked you out.”

“You said, ‘ _ this?’”  _ MacCready gestured between the two of them in imitation of Gray. “‘ _ Is over. We’re done.’ _ What the hell is that supposed to mean if not ‘ _ I’m terminating your contract _ ’?”

“Where did you--”

“Look,” MacCready said, talking over Gray. “I’m sorry I left you tied down, I really am. It was a dick move and I’m sure it was really boring, just being left there all night. But I apologized, you didn’t have to kick me out over it.”

Gray narrowed his eyes. “Is  _ that  _ what you think this is about?”

His tone made MacCready unsure he even knew was  _ this  _ was. “If it wasn’t that, then what? You were the one who let me dominate you,” he said, his ears and neck flaring slightly at the casual mention of what had probably been the best night of his life. “You can’t get mad about that.”

Gray snorted indignantly and turned away.

“What?” MacCready demanded, but Gray ignored him. “Dude, what? I can’t read your mind.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Gray snapped, standing up and walking out, leaving MacCready alone with his thoughts.

_ Same old Gray.  _ MacCready tried to situate himself into a more comfortable position on his back.  _ What the hell was that about, though? What does he have to be mad about if it’s not that I left him tied down? _

Gray was on the upper floor of the projector building, MacCready could hear him banging away at something and he frowned, closing his eyes and letting sleep come over him.  _ Never should have said anything to him that day he was fixing the generators. I could have avoided all of this.  _

 

***

 

For a minute, MacCready wasn’t sure what had roused him from his sleep. It was pitch dark and deathly quiet. He thought for a moment that he was still dreaming--he’d been set on fire, but it wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling, it was hot but brought with it a fair level of itching--but he quickly realized that the heat was coming from Gray’s hands, carefully cleaning the bite wound on his leg and changing the bandages.

MacCready’s breathing hitched. He was still naked, his blanket had been tossed aside and he was exposed completely to Gray, who was checking the cap on a two hundred year old bottle of peroxide.  _ He’s medically trained?  _ No, that didn’t seem right. He’d once seen Gray pull a nail out of his foot and pour out half a bottle of beer on it before finishing the rest. MacCready couldn’t be certain but he was  _ almost  _ positive that pre-war medical training didn’t advise that. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” Gray said, taking a fistful of gauze out of the bite and soaking them in peroxide.

“How’d you know I was awake?”

Gray didn’t look up from his work, he merely pointed between MacCready’s legs.  _ Oh, crap. _ MacCready clamped down on his tongue and thought hard about super mutants to keep his erection from growing any further. 

“I meant what I said, MacCready,” Gray said, wiping the wound with the soaked gauze, drawing a hiss of surprise from MacCready, who jerked his leg up to his chest and held it tightly.

“That hurts,” he said, allowing Gray to pry his leg from his grasp and straighten it out again.

“It’s going to.” Gray dabbed at MacCready’s thigh again, this time holding his knee in place. “When you can walk again, it’s probably best if you head back to Goodneighbor.”

“But--why? That’s not fair,” MacCready said, trying to sit up but Gray shoved him back down and fixed him with a stern glare, the bandages all but forgotten.

“Not fair?” Gray was digging into MacCready’s knee, no doubt leaving marks, but neither of them seemed to notice. “It’s not fair that a twenty year old has to be a crack-shot sniper just in order to survive out here. Do you want to know what I was doing when I was twenty? I was failing college and chasing after girls and thinking to myself atomic war was just a ghost story. Your whole life isn’t fair. This is just a drop in the bucket.”

MacCready furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Gray turned his attention back to MacCready’s leg. “Nothing.”

“No, come on, man, I’m sick of this, I’ve been nothing but open with you from the get-go. I put my whole life out on the table and you’ve given me nothing in return, you owe me--”

“The fuck do you think I  _ owe  _ you?” Gray tore a long strip of clean gauze from a roll he’d produced from a first aid kit nestled at the foot of MacCready’s bed. “I told you--you’re a hired gun  _ and that’s it. _ ”

“I  _ was _ !” MacCready struggled to sit up again, but Gray once again pushed him back down. “Yeah, I was, right up until  _ you _ started getting creative with the duct tape!”

“S’matter, MacCready? Never fucked a client before?” Gray tied the new bandages in place, a little too tightly. “You’re young, kid. Eventually you’ll learn to stop getting so attached.”

MacCready could feel his blood running hot, he was about to boil over, he needed to leave before he did something he came to regret. Leaving Gray gaping in surprise, he slipped off the opposite side of the bed and grabbed his duster, which had been folded carefully and set out on the floor next to his rifle. He quickly wrapped his duster around him--he’d have to find proper clothes later, he’d miss his boots, they fit so well, but he needed to get out  _ now _ \--and picked up his rifle before making for the door.

Gray grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around before he'd even stepped outside, but MacCready rammed the muzzle of his gun into Gray’s throat before he could speak. “Back up, man. I’m sick of you, and I’m sick of your shit. This is me, terminating any existing contract between us. You and I are  _ done. _ ” He jerked the rifle away and stomped out the door as best he could in his bare feet.

“Mac, those bites--”

“Don’t even worry about it!” MacCready yelled back, hoping that his limp wasn’t too apparent. “We’re done, I’m not your concern anymore!” He could hear Gray coming up behind him and he turned back around. “I’m serious, Gray. I will kill you this time.” MacCready could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes but he hastily dashed them away with the one remaining sleeve of his duster. “I know where to aim and I won’t hesitate.  _ Stay away from me _ .”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! This one's pretty long-ish, compared to previous chapters, anyway. Hopefully it makes up for the wait. :D Also, have some screencaps!
> 
> truck stop--http://imgur.com/5asOVWN  
> gray's bunker at starlight--http://imgur.com/OcSqk8M  
> gray--http://imgur.com/kGYzkC5

Gray spread his arms wide, palms up, defeated. “What’s your problem, kid? Why are you taking this so hard?”

MacCready didn’t answer. Instead, he tightened his finger around the trigger and tried to convince himself to fire.  _ Don’t watch. Just do it.  _

“Let me finish taping up your arm and you can go,” Gray said.

“Why do you  _ care _ ? What is the point of any of this? I don’t understand you, man, you tell me we’re done and then ask why I left, then you followed me, tried to kill me, then you patch me up, just to send me off again, what are you even playing at?!” MacCready kept his rifle at the ready, kept Gray squarely in the crosshairs, darting between his head and neck--he couldn’t decide where to shoot, he didn’t think he could handle the mess Gray would become no matter where he shot.

Gray stepped forward, and MacCready stumbled back. “I said, stay away from me! Answer the damn question!”

“Put the gun down,” Gray said, but MacCready stood firm.

“Answer my question first,” MacCready said. His arm was growing weak already, he couldn’t stand like this forever.

“I’m not having this conversation with a gun pointed at my face,” Gray snarled, stepping closer again. “Put. It. Down.”

“You’ll have to take it from me,” MacCready said, quickly checking behind himself to be sure he wasn’t about to back into something. “Either you give me an answer or I leave you dead on the floor here and I hobble back to Goodneighbor tonight.”

“Fine,” Gray said through gritted teeth. “I  _ can’t protect you,  _ MacCready.”

“What?” MacCready’s arms fell in surprise, much to his relief.

“Give me the gun, and we’ll talk.”

MacCready could already feel his leg aching to fold underneath him; his head was pounding and his stomach ached and he was exhausted, so he nodded and held out his rifle with a sigh. Gray took it and immediately was at MacCready’s side, tucking one arm around his slim waist while MacCready threw his good arm across Gray’s back. Together they went slowly back into the projector building where Gray helped MacCready back into his bunk and then leaned against the railing, propping up MacCready’s rifle next to him.

“I’m waiting,” MacCready said.

Gray scrubbed a hand over his face. He was tired, and it struck MacCready that Gray wasn’t going to live forever. When he finally spoke, his voice was haggard. “I can’t protect you.”

“We covered that part. I need you to explain what you mean now.”

“I’ll throw you back to the ghouls,” Gray said, but there was no malice in his voice. For a moment, he was the man MacCready had known.  _ He was my friend. _

“This is something I’ve been thinking for a while. Since the first time we fucked.” Gray waved one hand through the air dismissively. “I decided against it in the truck stop, at first. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you get close to me.”

“So, what made you change your mind?” MacCready asked, crossing his legs as discreetly as he could. Just thinking about the hour he’d spent on his knees was shameful enough.

“I held out for about half an hour before I decided I could walk the line. That we could do this without me putting you in danger.”

MacCready scoffed. “What made you think any of this was dangerous? Why did you ever think I  _ needed _ to be taken care of?”

“When we first met. When I paid you. You told me 250 caps, no negotiations, and when I said I only had 200, you still accepted.”

“Yeah, I’m desperate for work, what of it?”

Gray turned, and MacCready, embarrassed, pointed to his blanket indignantly, still pooled on the floor. “I only realized once we were alone that you were so young.” He bent and scooped up the blanket, tossing it to MacCready without a word, and returned to the railing at the end of the bed, where he continued as though he hadn’t stopped. “Twenty years old and this is what you have to do to survive. I really didn’t think anything of it until I saw you put my caps in your pack. Comic books, toy robot kits, a little tin lunchbox full of cakes. That was when I realized you were just a kid.”

“Whatever, dude, if it bothers you, you could have hired any friggin’ other merc. Plenty of Gunners out there who’ll stab you in the back as soon as look at you, but whatever, man, they’re old as hell, just like you, if that’s what you want.”

“I  _ realized _ ,” Gray continued, firmly this time. “That you were just a kid who would have gone with anyone who had some caps.  _ Anyone. _ ”

“Hey, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, man, you don’t need to do me any favors,” MacCready said, bundling up in his blanket.

“That’s what bothers me,” Gray said. He crossed his arms and refused to look up from the floor. “You shouldn’t have to be.” He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “When you left me tied down to my bunk...you left me compromised, and that’s when it really sank in that I wasn’t capable of doing this. If someone had gotten through the fence, they’d have killed you and made me watch.”

“What, and you think I’d just roll over and die, that I can’t take care of myself?”

“I’m not saying you would have, but if you  _ did. _ ” Gray shook his head. “I knew it was dangerous before we’d started. It’s why I put a stop to it before it happened, but you  _ wanted _ it so bad...I thought I could handle it.”

MacCready felt a familiar tug of longing for Gray that he anxiously shied away from. “You said it yourself, I wanted it, too, it was my decision too--”

“It doesn’t matter.” Gray moved to sit on the mattress, keeping on the far end, resting one elbow on the railing. “You don’t understand. I couldn’t live with myself if…” Gray closed his eyes and searched for the words. “If I let anything...happen to you. I really believed that this was my purpose now. I already stood by and let Shaun turn into the fucked up mess he is now. You’re all I had left.”

“So, what, you just...send me off, and hope nothing bad happens?”

“I wanted to. That was the plan. After I saw that you’d left, that you’d misunderstood me, I realized that it was for the best. You’d managed to make it this long on your own, and I was a distraction. I knew that I was what was going to get you killed.” Gray’s breathing stuttered, and MacCready looked up in alarm. “I just wanted to make sure you made it to Goodneighbor, that was all.” He ground his knuckles into his forehead, the stress was taking it’s toll on him. “I wasn’t aiming at you,” he added. “In the Super Duper Mart, I mean.”

“Yeah, I figured,” MacCready muttered. His stomach was turning over.  _ This asshole thinks I need protecting?  _ He  _ hired  _ me,  _ that’s not how this works! _

Gray was regarding MacCready carefully, waiting for... _ what? _

“So, what do you want, then?” MacCready asked. “What do you want to do now?”

“You know what I want. It’s safer for you in Goodneighbor.”

MacCready’s heart sank. “That’s not fair, Gray. What about what  _ I  _ want?”

“Kid, you  _ just asked-- _ ”

“Yeah, well it was a stupid question. I should have known you’d give me some bullsh--crap excuse.” MacCready scrambled to his knees and held his duster close around him to chase away the cold that was settling in. “What about you, huh? Who’s gonna keep an eye on you? Isn’t that what you hired me to do?”

Gray rolled his eyes and stood up. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. Took a bullet just fine, didn’t I?” He tapped his chest and made to leave, but MacCready snatched his wrist and weakly tried to pull him closer; Gray didn’t budge.

“Yeah, from me,” MacCready said, treading lightly on the edge of his own pride. “I was delirious and still managed to drop you. If you weren’t wearing armor, you’d be dead.” His voice wavered. “You’d be  _ dead _ .” He had to take a few deep breaths to steady himself, and Gray hesitantly stepped closer and awkwardly smoothed MacCready’s hair flat.

“Well, I’m not, so relax.”

MacCready sat up fully on his knees to make eye contact with Gray. He’d been told before that his eyes were a deep, almost startlingly bright blue, but he’d always told himself they couldn’t possibly be any brighter than Gray’s.  “What happens when you are? What do I do then?”

“Move on, s’my best guess.” Gray shrugged. MacCready slumped a little, wrapping his fingers loosely around Gray’s forearm and tugging; with a sigh, he sat down next to MacCready and put an arm around him. “Look, I--”

“Why are you the only one who’s allowed to care?” MacCready asked, his voice pitching higher than usual, and he coughed once to clear it. “You don’t know what you’d do if you let anything happen to me but if you kick it I’m supposed to just shrug and call it a day and go back to Goodneighbor like you were just another client?”

“I  _ am _ \--er,  _ was  _ just another client,” Gray said, but his voice was starting to lack conviction. He moved to pull his arm back, but MacCready darted into his lap before he could get away. “Come on, don’t--Mac, I--” MacCready ignored him and nuzzled against Gray’s neck. It was prickly; Gray only seemed to remember to shave every other day. He held stock still, his arms stiffly at his sides, as MacCready repositioned his thighs around his waist and squeezed slightly. Gray licked his lips once and turned his head to the side, away from MacCready. “I don’t think--kid, we shouldn’t--”

MacCready cradled Gray’s jaw in one hand and turned his head back. He held him there for a moment, taken aback by the sheer vulnerability in Gray’s eyes. For the first time since they’d met, MacCready was overcome with a sudden need to protect Gray.  _ From what, though? His own emotions?  _ It seemed about right.

“Please, don’t do this to me,” Gray breathed. “It’s...easier, if we don’t--”

“Nothing’s easy, come on, now,” MacCready said, pressing his lips softly to the scar over Gray’s right eye, trailing light kisses over the length of it, down to the corner of his mouth, where he lingered.

“You never told me where you got these scars,” he said, his lips brushing against Gray’s as he spoke.

Gray’s voice was heady, his breathing uneven. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said, nipping at MacCready’s bottom lip. Fuck, he shouldn’t be encouraging this, but the way he was feeling right now…

“Try me,” MacCready said, letting go of Gray’s jaw and putting his arms around the old mercenary’s neck. “Pre-war or post?”

Gray closed his eyes, and his voice steadily dropped to a low murmur. “Pre,” he said, feeling MacCready’s body relaxing into his but he did nothing to stop it. “It was pre-war. Bar fight. I had a temper when I was young.” He wasn’t even sure if that was true anymore, he barely remembered, but he wanted any excuse to keep talking, just to feel the movement of MacCready’s mouth on his own.

“ _ Had _ ?” MacCready was incredulous as he leaned back so Gray could fully grasp the level of disbelief written on his face.

“Had.” The faintest hint of a wry smile flickered to life. “You wouldn’t have liked me when I was young.”

“I don’t like you now.”

“I know.” Without warning, Gray’s arms were around MacCready, yanking him close, one hand was on the back of MacCready’s neck, but he didn’t need any guidance in fastening his mouth over Gray’s.

It was different this time; Gray held MacCready tight as he allowed the younger man to explore the inside of his mouth, feeling out every imperfection, skimming along the sharp edge of his teeth while his hands similarly explored Gray’s body. Meanwhile, Gray’s powerful arms remained locked around MacCready, an unspoken promise that he’d never let go.

“Gray--I have to...I have to tell you something,” MacCready said, coming up briefly for air, but Gray shook his head and heaved MacCready carefully onto his back.

“Later,” he said, arranging himself on all fours over the smaller man. He dipped down to kiss MacCready again, who knotted his fingers together around the back of Gray’s neck with an air of desperation that hit Gray like a kick in the gut.

“I’m not going anywhere, relax,” Gray said as he broke away, untangling himself from MacCready’s grip and rolling back onto his haunches. He unzipped his uniform, shucking the entire thing and kicking it onto the floor while MacCready struggled out of his duster, leaving it splayed around him.

Gray paused, he wasn’t sure he knew how to do this. He knew how to take, and that was all, because nobody truly wanted Gray Walsh and he’d made his peace with that, but MacCready for some reason wanted to pretend otherwise. Whether it was because of the guns Gray supplied him with or the promise of protection, he didn’t know.

“What’s wrong?” MacCready asked suddenly, his brows coming together in concern.

“Nothing.” Gray said, but he still hesitated, and MacCready looked troubled.

“Gray, please tell me, I--”

“Enough,” Gray said. It was harsh. Loud. MacCready tensed and withdrew, he crossed his arms over his chest and made to wriggle out from under Gray, who put a hand on his shoulder to stop him and sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just...what are you doing? What do you want?”

“You’re gonna make me say it again? Dude, I want  _ you _ .”

Gray clicked his tongue in mild irritation. “But  _ why _ ?”

“I don’t know. I like being with you. You make me feel safe.”

“There are plenty of people who are better qualified for that job, I don’t know why you want me specifically.” He winced as MacCready brought his fingertips up to the enormous bruise on his chest.

“I doubt that.” The slightest touch in the darkened flesh left bright white fingerprints that quickly faded, and Gray flinched back. “It’s not just that. I…” MacCready rolled his eyes and sighed through his teeth. “Uh...don’t laugh, okay, but I just...I don’t  _ care  _ about...about me. If you’re not around, it doesn’t matter.” He touched the knuckle of his first finger to the bridge of his nose in a poor attempt to cover his face, he wasn’t sure if he was burning up or not, but knowing him, he probably was.

“I’m not more important than your well-being,” Gray said. What the hell was this kid saying? “You’ve got to keep that sex drive in check, you--”

MacCready pulled himself up by Gray’s neck and kissed him, hard, silencing him. “Jesus, you piss me off,” he said breathlessly, swallowing the tiny moans coming unbidden from Gray. “I...fuck. I love you, man. I really do. And I don’t care what you think about that. Because I’m gonna follow you to the end of the earth, whether you want me or not.”

Gray had to ferociously tamp down a flash of rage at MacCready’s words, his first instinct told him very clearly that MacCready was lying. He almost stood up and walked off in disgust, but a part of him wanted nothing more than for it to be true. Maybe it didn’t matter if it was true or not, if MacCready was willing to play the game, then… 

MacCready was searching his face anxiously, looking for any indication that Gray had even acknowledged him.  _ What if he is telling the truth?  _ The thought was terrifying. But he couldn’t think about it. For once, he couldn’t let himself dwell on things. He let a low growl rumble deep in his chest as he rolled himself and MacCready over, situating MacCready on his chest. “Good. Because you’re not going anywhere. Not without me.” The words sounded foreign to him, but he knew that he, at least, was telling the truth. He nudged MacCready’s head back with his own to get at MacCready’s shoulder, biting and sucking until MacCready whined. “What do you want? Anything,” Gray whispered, but MacCready shook his head.

“I don’t care, man. I just want you. You don’t pay attention to anything I say, do you?”

“It’s a damn good thing, for you sake, that I don’t.” Gray let one hand roam down MacCready’s spine, pressing the pad of his thumb into it as he went, making MacCready arch his back and stick his ass straight up into the air. “Shit. I forgot your bites. One of them just came open again,” Gray said, touching the bite on MacCready’s arm gingerly.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine, I don’t--” MacCready shrugged Gray’s hand off and bent back down to bite at his earlobe, but Gray put a firm hand on the back of his neck to stop him. He didn’t mind, he could even just sit like that for hours, especially if Gray eventually started combing through his hair with his fingers. He wasn’t leaking  _ that _ much blood, was he…?

“It’s getting everywhere. I never cleaned this one properly. Come on. Off.” Gray tipped over, letting MacCready roll off onto the mattress, and went for the first aid kit while MacCready petulantly checked himself.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, frowning.

“Mac, if any of that gets on me, I could die, you know that. I’m not immune to half the crap you’ve been exposed to.” Gray shook the bottle of peroxide, there wasn’t a whole lot left. He’d have to go out and trade for more at some point. He was only telling half the truth; anything MacCready had, he’d no doubt already picked up, but it really didn’t matter. He knew his days were numbered, what did it matter if he was sick as hell on the way out? He finished tying off the bandage and set the kit on the floor.

MacCready flexed his arm once, then looked to Gray expectantly. “Can we--”

“Not tonight, kid.” Gray stood up and ran a hand through his hair. It was coming undone and spilling over his forehead, and he tried in vain to tuck it all back into order. “When you’re feeling better. I promise. We have plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere.” He picked up his uniform and slung it over his shoulder, but MacCready sat up so fast that it made Gray whip around in fear that he’d torn one of his wounds open again. “What?”

“You’re--you’re going?”

“Yeah, you need to get back to sleep, and you need to eat something, I’ll bring you something as soon as I can find--”

MacCready shook his head. “I’ll be okay until morning. Can’t you stay with me? Just...one time?”

Gray set his jaw. “ _ Just one time  _ becomes  _ every night  _ pretty quickly.”

“No, really, just once, please?”

Gray looked up the stairs, then to MacCready, then to the door and back to MacCready. “Once. Just once. Just tonight.” He let his uniform drop to the floor and moved MacCready’s rifle around to the side of the bunk before he sank down on it with a groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid,” he said, stretching out next to MacCready and pulling the blanket over himself. 

“Hm. I hope so,” MacCready said, burrowing under the blanket and curling up against Gray’s chest, careful to avoid his bruise. He was warm, and smelled strongly of dirt and gunpowder and stale sweat, but it was a scent MacCready had gotten used to, to the point where it was almost welcome.

Gray was unsure where to put his arm, he moved to put it around MacCready and stopped himself. He couldn’t tell if that was what he was supposed to do or not, but when he felt MacCready suddenly shift, when he felt the tickle of MacCready’s quiet breathing on the hollow of his throat, he didn’t care if it was right or not. With a quiet ease that almost felt like the most natural thing in the world--maybe someday it would come naturally, who knew--he slipped his arm around MacCready’s thin body and held him close, knowing that he’d already fallen asleep, somehow.

“Nothing is ever gonna happen to you. Not while I’m alive,” Gray said, his voice barely audible. “That’s a promise.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're finally done! Thank you to everyone who's been following this; all the bookmarks, the kudos, the comments, the reblogs on tumblr, I love all of it more than words can describe. I know I've been pretty bad about updating, but life is hectic and I was doing this one chapter at a time--but my next project, if anyone is interested, will definitely be much better in terms of updating.
> 
> Also, this chapter is HUGE (compared to the other chapters). I hope it makes up for the absolute shitshow that has been my updating schedule, lol.

MacCready woke to find himself alone.

He sat up and drew the blanket around him, listening for any sound in the still air that might suggest Gray was still nearby.

Silence.

_ Of course he’s gone.  _ MacCready pursed his lips into a firm line, he wasn’t going to cry over Gray, not now, not again. How could he be mad, though? He had done the same thing to client after client, telling them what they wanted to hear, getting close to them, always managing to slip away before he got in too deep. Gray was much older, much more jaded. He knew how to play the game and he’d probably played it a hundred times. Shit, maybe he wasn’t even 200 years old, how was anyone supposed to know if he was lying when he said you used to be able to make something called macaroni and cheese from a box with hot water and brahmin milk? 

There was a plate sitting on the trunk at the foot of the bed, and MacCready’s stomach roared to life as soon as he saw it. A slab of something, probably bloatfly, was neatly prepared, blackened and charred--Gray’s handiwork, no doubt, he’d never been able to figure out outdoor cooking--with a tin of water next to it. MacCready poked around it, hoping to find a note or  _ something,  _ but there was nothing. Disappointed, he picked up the entire cut of meat and tore into it, noting that it definitely wasn’t bloatfly, the flavor was wrong, but he still couldn’t place it. It didn’t matter; it was gone in just a few minutes, along with half the tin of water.

He sat down on the trunk and sifted through the blankets until he found his duster, wadded up and kicked in a heap at the end of the bed.  _ Now what? _ He thought, pulling his duster around him and feeling around the pockets for a pack of cigarettes and a light. He located a small paper packet with two left and what felt like three matches tucked away inside, and he pulled the whole thing out and looked it over.

_ “I’ll give you a hundred caps if you eat this.”  _

His hand closed around the packet again. It was the last of the cigarettes Gray had given him for eating the food paste. It felt like so long ago, when things were easy between them, when they were just screwing around, when either one of them could have stepped on a landmine and died right there and the other would have shrugged it off and said “it happens”.

Rolling the tin of water between his hands, MacCready tried to tell himself he wished things were the way they’d been, but he couldn’t seem to convince himself that things had been better then. He couldn’t explain it, he  _ liked  _ feeling the way he did about Gray, even though Gray had made it very clear that he didn’t reciprocate the feelings, MacCready still was reluctant to feel any level of animosity towards him.  _ Is this what love feels like? What do they call it, unre-...unrequired love? Unrequieted? Un...oh, whatever. _ He thought bitterly, taking another sip from the tin.  _ It sucks.  _

He sighed and took a cigarette from the packet, lighting up and letting the match fall to the floor between his knees.

“Mac? Is that you? You awake?”

MacCready’s heart soared momentarily at the sound of Gray’s voice, he stood and whirled around, nearly tripping over himself. “I’m up, yeah.” He carefully ground out his cigarette on the boarded up window sill, slipping it back into the packet and dropping it on the lid of the trunk.

“I left you something, did you find it?” Gray asked, coming down the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and MacCready’s heart sank.

“Yeah. I found it. Thanks.” His shoulders drooped a bit and he dropped back onto the trunk, arms crossed. 

Gray tilted his head to one side and paused at the foot of the stairs. “S’matter? What are you giving me that pissy look for?”

“You know, I’d love to get in this fight with you again, but I’m really just not feeling it,” MacCready said, casting his eyes down. “It’s nothing. Just me being young and stupid, I guess.”

“It’s what you’re best at. Are you still hungry? I can dig up something else for you, it  _ has  _ been a while, I--”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Is it, or isn’t it? I’m not gonna watch you waste away to nothing because you feel like moping.” Gray strode to MacCready’s side and took him by the shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

MacCready slapped his hand away. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Narrowing his eyes, Gray took MacCready by the chin, a little more forcefully this time. “I said, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t touch me, man, alright, just leave it alone,” MacCready said, jerking away and pouting at the floor.

“I don’t understand,” Gray said, his patience visibly running thin. “You got me, that’s what you wanted, right? I’m here, what more do you want?”

“I thought it’d be different, I guess.”

“What does that mean?”

“I feel like you’re only here because I want you. That if you had any say in it, you’d be anywhere else. You promised me just one night but couldn’t even make it through that without sneaking off.”

Gray let out a short  _ huff.  _ “I didn’t  _ sneak off, _ it’s not--”

“Just answer me something, alright? Do you want to be here or not? Would you rather be off on your own, or not?”

“I told you this last night, but I’ll tell you again, since you’ve apparently forgotten. It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t, because I’m staying with you, regardless. But no, I don’t want you here. I want you home, at Goodneighbor; safe.”

MacCready scowled. “If I’m a burden--”

“Do  _ you  _ want to be here?” Gray snapped, crossing his arms. “Because it sounds like you’re just making excuses to be rid of me now. After all that shit you put me through last night--”

“I do, yeah, I do, I just…”

“What do you  _ want _ ? I’m trying, kid, I really am, just tell me.” Gray’s expression softened, and he spread his arms wide in exasperation, but MacCready took it as an invitation and stood up to embrace Gray.

“I want…” he murmured into the folds of Gray’s uniform. “I just want you to feel the same way I feel about you.”

“Mac, I do. Why don’t you understand that?”

“Then why do you want me in Goodneighbor so bad? Why do you push me away?”

Gray tried to hug MacCready, to make it feel like a natural gesture, but the stiffness in his movements gave him away. “I told you this. I care about you. More than anything. More than my own selfish needs. I’d rather know you were safe and suffer alone than risk your life.”

“I don’t get it, though. I’m not worth the risk? If you cared so much, wouldn’t you want me around all the time?” MacCready tilted back to look up Gray.

“No, you’re not. Stop it, I’m not trying to send you off,” he added, as MacCready instantly began to argue. “What I’m saying is, it’s selfish of me to want to be with you. Being with me puts you in such a dangerous position.”

“But I told you. I like playing dangerous games.”

“I know you do.” Gray felt MacCready’s hands suddenly slide lower down his back. “And if that’s what you want, I can make it work. I’m more than happy to give my life for yours.”

“It won’t come to that,” MacCready said tensely, burying his head against Gray’s broad chest again.

“I’m not going to die of old age, kid. You need to come to terms with that. This is going to end in violence, and when it does, I expect you to run, do you understand?”

“You--what, you want me to watch you get murdered and then take off with my tail between my legs?” MacCready scoffed, standing back to puff up his chest and posture, but Gray wouldn’t move, he kept MacCready in place.

“I do. Don’t argue with me or I’m leaving, how about that?”

“You’re blackmailing me into just letting you die at some unspecified point in the future?”

“Mm hm.” Gray started to tease his fingers through MacCready’s hair. “You can love me all you want, it’s not gonna change the fact that I’m a miserable old bastard.”

“I’m not sure I ever called you that to your face,” MacCready said, moving closer so that he could feel the warm pulse in Gray’s neck under his cheek as he spoke. “Not saying that it’s not true, though.”

“I think pointing at me and shouting at someone that they don’t know what it’s like having to live with a miserable old bastard like me still counts as saying it to my face,” Gray said, nudging MacCready’s face back with his own so that he could rest his scarred cheek on MacCready’s. “It’s alright, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They don’t know what it’s like…” Gray’s voice tapered off, he could barely concentrate as MacCready nuzzled against the beard that was threatening to grow. “To, uh, to live with a smart mouthed little punk like you, either.”

MacCready was silent; he was nearly drunk on Gray’s scent, he could hear Gray’s pulse quickening, he could almost stand here and listen to the thick, heavy sound forever. To think that it might one day stop--one day in the near future, as far as Gray was concerned--was unbearable.

“Wait,” Gray said, picking MacCready up, hitching him up by the ass and carrying him the few steps to the bunk, where he set him down gently. He sank to MacCready’s side, rolling onto his back and pulling MacCready onto his chest. “Careful,” he said, putting a hand over his heart.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I should have known you were going for the ghouls.” MacCready pulled the zipper of Gray’s uniform down just far enough that he could spread it wide and see the bruise. “I could have killed you.”

“Stop,” Gray said. He folded his arms across MacCready’s back and pulled him down. “You didn’t. So stop worrying about it.”

“I can’t,” MacCready said, resting his chin daintily on what he hoped wasn’t the bruise and lacing his fingers behind Gray’s head. “I  _ meant  _ to kill you. I  _ tried. _ If I had--if I’d done it--I’d--”

“You’d be dead, too,” Gray said, sitting up onto his elbows and dislodging MacCready slightly. 

“That’d be fine,” MacCready said, momentarily distracted again by the brilliant shade of bright blue in Gray’s eyes. They were so...caring, so full of something MacCready could only assume was admiration--but they hardened in an instant.

“Don’t talk like that,” Gray said. `Please don’t. I’m serious. I need to know that when I’m gone, you’ll be able to carry on without me. You have so much to live for, MacCready.”

MacCready sighed in disappointment. “Yeah. I’ll try. I promise. As long as you promise you won’t get yourself killed for at least another twenty years.”

“Why twenty?”

“Because then I’ll be your age, and you keep telling me you’ve lived your life. So. Checkmate.”

Gray dropped onto his back again and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll be dead of a heart attack long before that, I swear to God, kid, you put me through more stress than any man should be able to handle.”

MacCready nestled his head into Gray’s neck and smiled; Gray was absentmindedly stroking his back, every now and again sifting his fingers through MacCready’s hair and sighing contentedly. “My...uh. My name’s Robert. RJ. I prefer RJ,” he said, without picking his head up.

“I--oh,” Gray said, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. “I never knew that wasn’t your first name.”

“Wait, are you telling me that Gray is your first name?” MacCready glanced upwards, though all he could see was the stubbly underside of Gray’s jaw.

“Why do you think Danse calls me Walsh?”

MacCready’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I don’t know. I guess I always thought it was a nickname you two had come up with back when you were doing jobs for the Brotherhood.”

“Ah, no. The only nickname he ever had for me was ‘prick’. Sometimes he’d use my full name, ‘that fucking prick’.”

“I knew it.”

Gray flashed MacCready that smirk--that toothy, stupid, crooked smirk--and MacCready’s breathing hitched. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it, how much younger it made Gray look, how easy and care-free he looked;  _ this  _ was the Gray he’d fallen for.

“What?” he said, his expression faltering.

“Nothing. Just thinking about...uh...nothing.”

“Come on, spit it out.”

“You’re gonna make me say it out loud?”

Gray’s smirk instantly returned. “Absolutely.”

MacCready gave him a sharp poke right above his heart, and Gray gasped, a pained chuckle slipping through as he winced and his hands flew to his chest. “ _ Fuck.  _ that hurt, I’ll get you for that later,” he said, locking one arm around MacCready’s neck and grinding his knuckles into his scalp. “Now tell me, you little shit.”

“ _ Ow! Stopstopstop!” _ MacCready flailed and tried to wriggle out of Gray’s hold but  _ damn _ he was strong. “Alright, alright, I was just thinking about-- _ ugh _ \--IwasjustthinkingabouthowmuchIlikeyou. Okay?”

“That’s cute,” Gray said, freeing MacCready, who rubbed the top of his head and wrinkled his nose. “That reminds me. I almost forgot. How are you feeling? Can you walk?”

“That depends.”

“Just answer the damn question.”

MacCready frowned and flexed the muscles in his leg, then his arm. “I think I’m alright. How far?”

“Not far. Come on. I think you’re going to like this.” Gray all but threw MacCready aside and zipped his uniform back up as he jumped to his feet. He turned and extended a hand to MacCready-- _ oh, man, he’s gonna show me a bunch of bodies nailed to the wall, isn’t he-- _ who took it and started towards the door. “No, upstairs,” Gray said, tugging MacCready’s arm.  _ Holy shit, has he ever been this excited for anything? Has he ever been  _ excited _? I honestly don’t think so. _

“Uh,” MacCready tentatively took a few more steps, looking up the stairs warily. “I’m...not sure going up stairs is really in my skillset at the moment. I-- _ woah!” _ he cried as Gray swept him up in his arms, one arm under his knees, the other tucked under his arms. “I--okay,” he said, going pink around the ears and laying his head against Gray’s sternum. 

“I’ve been working on this for a while. I didn’t think I was going to get it right, but I think I’ve got it. Oh, and you have to close your eyes.”

“What is it?” MacCready asked, doing as he was told.

Gray shook his head and continued ascending the stairs. When he stepped outside into the brisk early morning air, MacCready thought for sure they’d reached the end of their journey--but he was wrong, Gray continued up the creaking scaffolding he’d set up that led to the roof of the building.

“Alright, sit here for just a second,” Gray said, setting MacCready down on the chilly metal roof and stepping away. “Don’t open your eyes yet.”

“You know, when you kick me off the building and God asks how I died, I’m gonna get laughed at,” MacCready said, but kept his hands over his eyes. Gray said nothing and his mind raced at the possibilities of what Gray could possibly want to show him from this high up. The broken down combine harvester they’d found, just abandoned in the middle of the lot, still with a car halfway chewed up in it’s teeth? Probably not. His interest was further piqued when he heard the whir of machinery, accompanied by a fierce grinding and a string of profanities from Gray. A few moments later, it seemed to be running smoothly, and Gray reappeared at his side with a blanket.

“Here,” he said, sitting next to MacCready and draping it around both of them. “It’s cold as hell out here. Alright, give it a minute to warm up, but just watch that big wall there, okay?”

MacCready raised his eyebrow at Gray. “Watch it do  _ what?” _

“Kid, just watch it, you’re gonna miss it.”

MacCready rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the wall. He studied it’s peeling panels and cracked infrastructure; what was he waiting for? Then--it happened. It seemed to light up, a pool of dim, yellowish light was suddenly shined on it, and then--

“Oh, my God. Gray--is this--is this a  _ movie _ ?” MacCready said, reading the title card and nearly bouncing with excitement. “Oh my God, oh my God, what’s it about, what happens?”

“Shut up, you’re missing it,” Gray said, but his tone was good-natured as he put his arm around MacCready’s shoulders. “It’s a couple different movies, and there’s no sound, sorry. I spliced together a few reels, a lot of them were pretty bad, but I did what I could. This one’s a movie called  _ the Thing. _ See, that’s--oh, shit, okay, now it’s  _ The Wizard of Oz. _ That’s Dorothy, she’s...ah...I don’t really remember this one, Teresa liked it, but I never cared for that fluffy munchkin shit.”

MacCready sat with his eyes glued to the screen as Gray explained what was happening.

“See, we used to come out here and watch movies here, just like this. Not up here, obviously. We’d sit in our cars, and there’d be speakers you attach to your door. I took Teresa here once, when we first started dating. I’d never been to the drive-in, so we took my truck, an old Pick-R-Up I bought off her uncle...what?” Gray glanced down and noticed that MacCready was no longer paying attention to the movie, instead, he was focused intently on Gray.

MacCready twisted his fingers together in his lap, seemingly summoning the courage to ask, “do you miss her?”

“No,” Gray said simply.

“Did you love her?”

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Gray asked quietly.

“I just want to know.”

“I loved her, but not in the way you think. I was her protector. Her breadwinner. That was all. She was the other half my father insisted I needed. So I married her. I was happy enough with her. But I’m happier without her. I was happier on my own.”

MacCready flinched.

“Happiest with you,” he added, touching his forehead to MacCready’s. “I...uh…” He turned away and ran a hand through his neat and tidy slicked-back hair, accidentally pulling some of it loose from it’s tight cluster so that it fell along the side of his head. “I...fuck.”

“Come on, spit it out.”

“I’ll kick you right off this building,” Gray said. He looked out at the movie again and sighed. “I love you, kid. Don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“That’s cute.” MacCready snuggled deeper against Gray, who shrugged him off and just pulled him onto his lap, crossing his arms over MacCready’s stomach. “Wait--what is that? Some kind of radroach?” MacCready asked, squinting at the screen.

“That’s the Thing,” Gray said, shrugging. “It’s some kind of alien. It’s like a synth, it kills you and pretends to be you. But it can shapeshift, so it can be anyone.”

“You think gen four synths will be able to do that?”

“Maybe.”

“I hope not.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the movie, the only sound was the hum of the projector and Gray’s frequent yawning as he started to doze off, but MacCready stayed up, enraptured by the film, and when it ended, he rocked Gray awake.

“Hm?” Gray asked; he had slowly migrated until he was laying flat on his back, his legs still wrapped around MacCready’s waist, who had held onto his ankles to keep him from rolling away.

“Can we watch it again? Please?”

“How about tomorrow?”

MacCready pouted. “But--”

“That screen is forty feet tall, let’s not announce  _ again _ to every raider in the area that we’re here, alright?”

MacCready scowled, but pulled Gray into a sitting position. “Fine.”

Gray stretched and yawned. “Besides, I still owe you  _ just one night, _ right?”

“Yeah, you do.” MacCready bit his lip, uneasiness showing plainly through his whole body, then took Gray’s face in both hands and kissed him. Tiredly, Gray raised his eyebrows in confusion, but kissed him back until MacCready broke away.

“What was that?” Gray asked, his eyelids still hooded from exhaustion.

“I just wanted to try it. I saw it in the movie. It was a little different, he picked her her up and spun her around, but it looked nice.”

“Tell you what,” Gray said, clapping MacCready on the shoulder and pulling him close for another quick peck--which, somehow, was a hundred times better; it sent a jolt of excitement and adrenaline and all sorts of other things through MacCready that he couldn’t describe--and smiled, probably the first, genuine, open smile he’d ever seen from Gray and it nearly stopped his heart. “You keep practicing. Because  _ that,  _ I want to see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off--I'll admit that I am a little bummed that it's over. This was such an exciting part of my life for a few months there (I'm just a public servant, guys, my life isn't that exciting lol). But, second--I do have a lot more stuff in the works as far as these two go, I still have a whole pile of one-shots, a pretty sizable AU, and a companion piece to go along with Made of Steel (which is why I haven't finished that yet, I had to finish this first. /cough)
> 
> Anyway let me know what you think, and thank you all for sticking through with this to the end. :D


End file.
